From Pickpocket to Pirate
by Yuu-chi
Summary: Lovino does something both very brave and very, very stupid and lands himself aboard a pirate ship against his will. Perhaps picking the pockets of the famed Captain Antonio Fernandez Carriedo wasn't the best choice he's made.
1. Curiosity

**Chapter one – Curiosity killed the cat**

'_Common sense is not so common.__'  
><em>**_– Voltaire  
><em>**

The town of Belmont was currently playing host to a crew of pirates.

And not just any pirates, if the whispers Lovino had been hearing on the street were correct, but the crew and Captain of the dreaded pirate ship _The Scarlet Maiden_.

_The Scarlet Maiden _was one of the three most feared ships in all the seven seas, the things legends and myths were made of. In fact, some _did_ believe it to be a myth. The tales spoke of a ship whose bright red sails stood out starkly against the sky, whether it be the golden glow of an early morn, the shimmer blue of a breezy day or the endless blackness of storm.

The ship, it was said, would dock silently and then in mere hours entire towns would be wiped out, the pirates leaving naught but blood and carnage in their wake and a kind of stillness that belonged only to phantoms or the surreal feel of a dream.

Lovino didn't believe those rumours. It was ridiculous, tall tales told to frighten small children in a fucking stupid ass attempt to cease their bad behaviour. Because, really, that was the stuff of nightmares to most people.

However, myths and legends were called that for a reason. Whatever Lovino had heard of _The Scarlet Maiden _and her crew, it was surely exaggerated and even if they _were _docked in his town he wasn't all that worried. Belmont had had its fair share of pirates and they always came out fine and dandy. There was something pirate-repellent in this town that had always kept them safe and out of the way of plunderers and murderers.

So, Lovino felt more than comfortable to ease into the crowded tavern amidst gales of laughter and song, making his way easily though the clusters of pirates sprawled effortlessly around circular wooden tables as they drank alcohol as if it were water and, indeed, essential to their very survival.

In a matter of minutes Lovino found who he was looking for.

Standing alone behind the counter was a slender boy whose delicate face shouldn't be able to support a grin of that size. Green eyes sparkled merrily as he passed another mug of ale to a waiting pirate with a slight laugh, completely at ease in the packed room.

Lovino, however, wrinkles his nose as somebody brushed up against him and withdrew stiffly into himself. He wasn't a people person per se.

"Oh, LOVI!"

The call came from his twin at the bar and Lovino faced forward once again to see Feliciano waving energetically at him, the little curl sticking out from his hair – identical to Lovino's – bounced eagerly as the teen himself rolled back and forth on the spot.

Lovino made a face as he pushed his way through the crowd, coming out with a neat little _pop _in front of the bar as he muttered angrily to himself about close contact.

"Oh Lovi, I was hoping you'd come by, if not I was going to go get you as soon as my shift was over because all these men are _pirates! _How exciting is that! And they're all so nice and friendly and they know funny stories and –."

Lovino had learned from nearly eighteen years or experience that if you let Feliciano talk for too long there would be no end to it and he would talk you into a coma. So, Lovino cut over him with a quick "- Yeah, I know. Everyone knows by now dipshit. I came to see if…" He trailed off and looked around the crowded room.

He _had _been going to say 'if you were okay' but he didn't want to come off sounding worried or anything. He didn't want to give Feliciano an excuse to start bawling because _fuck knows _the kid cried as easily as a bloody four year old.

So, Lovino finished off his sentence with a tacked on, "what they were like. I came to see what they were like."

Fortunately however, his brother was an idiot and failed to pick up on the changes in tone as Lovino altered his sentence half way though. _Un_fortunately, however, all it did was brighten his smile to almost blinding levels and give him an excuse to start talking away again, much to Lovino's annoyance.

"Ooooh, they're so cool Lovi! You see that man over there," No, Lovino _didn't _see that man over there, not through the blasted crowd, but he nodded anyway, "He's their _Captain_."

Feliciano said the word with a certain amount of reverence, as if being 'Captain' was equivalent to being god. This was completely normal for the younger twin though, seeing as how he'd had quite the fascination with pirates from a young age. A consequence of being born into the great era they lived in, Lovino supposed, although himself could only see one good thing about a bunch of sexually repressed men who spent extended periods of time alone and out at sea.

And that was their wallets. You could always expect a bigger picking with pirates, treasure hoarders as they were.

One may protest that picking pockets was _stealing _and that stealing was _wrong. _If they did, however, Lovino might just punch them right in the kisser accompanied by a few choice words before making off with anything of value they happened to have on them.

Perhaps it was a filthy habit, but if starving was the alternative – it _was_ – Lovino would rather be accused of being a petty thief. Not everyone could get a job in this damn economy, especially not someone with as rough of a reputation as him and it wasn't like Feliciano and himself could survive on the pitiful income the younger got from working part time in the tavern.

Lovino felt himself scowl at this as he recalled the unpleasant details of his life in Belmont before he shook his head, willing his thoughts away to other things. Like, for instance, how that lone blonde sitting in the corner looked far too preoccupied to notice if Lovino slid a few coins out of his pocket.

Not that he would though because _fuck _he was a lot bigger than him. Not that he was small! He wasn't, really! Maybe a little shorter than average, and okay, a lifetime of poverty had left him kind of skinny, but that didn't mean he was _small_. The blonde just happened to be freakishly big, thinking he was all that with his slick backed hair and blue eyes and completely German appearance… Damn those potato eaters….

Lovino didn't realize he was talking out loud until Feliciano placed a concerned hand on his head and asked, "Are you feeling okay brother? You're muttering again…"

Flushing red Lovino batted his hand away and replied with a snippy, "I'm fine moron. Now go do your job and I'll do mine."

Feliciano sent him the _Look_. "Fratello, maybe you shouldn't…"

"Why? You think I'll get caught?" Lovino snorted, leaning on the bar and looking his brother in the eye in a way that said _try me_.

Feliciano bit his lip in response, turning the glass he was holding over in his hands, "It's not that I think you'll get caught… I'm just worried for you… And it's… It's wrong."

"You worship pirates," Lovino deadpanned, "who steal and loot for no reason. But it's wrong to take a few coins here and there to stay alive?"

This caused Feliciano to further gnaw at his lip and pull his eyebrows down so they met over the bridge of his nose as he thought very, very hard. It looked like it was rather difficult; after all, Feliciano wasn't popular for his infinite brain capacity.

"Well…" He said slowly, "when pirates do it… it's more heroic… somehow."

So destroying villages for amusement was apparently more heroic than an elder brother risking bodily harm and death so as to prevent his younger brother from starving to death or living on the streets? Really, sometimes Lovino wondered why he even bothered. What was the point? Let the ungrateful twat starve.

"And when a captain does it," Feliciano was saying, vigour back in his words, "it's even more heroic!"

Lovino sneered at this and couldn't resist asking, "So, if _I _stole from the captain, would that make _me _heroic?" Feliciano gasped at this and the glass he was cradling nearly slipped from his hands and he tried to wave them franticly.

"Fratello, you _can't! _Do you know who the captain is? This is the crew of _Maiden Scarlet_! He'd kill you for sure! Even though he seems so nice…"

"One," Lovino said holding up his index finger, "It's _The Scarlet Maiden _not _Maiden Scarlet,_ two," he put up another finger, "They're not that crew anyway, and three," he paused to smirk openly at his brother now, foul temper just bubbling below the surface, "_watch me."_

Feliciano looked like he wanted to argue but the blonde Lovino had been fuming about earlier had raised his hand and was quietly looking at Feliciano in a clear request for a drink and the younger twin had no choice but to send his brother a concerned look before hurrying off.

Lovino watched his brother go with a small sense of satisfaction and a large feeling of anger. For all his big talk he didn't actually know _where _the Captain _was_. Only the vague direction Feliciano had indicated in. Without any real hope he turned to look and was startled when the crowd chose this precious moment to part, leaving him a clear view of the only man eating at the counter.

It was, without a doubt, the Captain. That was if the flamboyant red coat and feathered hat sitting by his elbow was anything to go by. Lovino took a moment to study the suppose Captain of the feared _Scarlet Maiden. _

He was far from intimidating, chatting amiably with a suspiciously French looking man as he waved his fork in the air to demonstrate some point or another. Dark brown hair flicked easily away from his scalp, slightly longer than average, tied loosely at the base of his neck and a set of vibrant green eyes looked cheerfully around the room as is he was in a very amusing situation, a set of golden circles glittered in his ear as he tilted his head. He looked slow. And stupid, Lovino added. Slow and stupid with a shit-eating grin on his face.

As if summoned by his very thoughts those green eyes flicked up to look right at him in a way that was, Lovino thought, incredibly piercing. Very much so and suddenly those eyes didn't see so harmless anymore.

The moment was broken, however, by the call of the Captain's companion as he beckoned Lovino over, "Feliciano my darling ~we could use some more drinks over here~!" The bastards threw in a wink for good measure and judging from the look in his eyes was planning on flirting with him the moment he got close. Well, his brother anyway, which apparently the French bastard thought he was.

"Francis," the Captain said in a cheerful voice, "That's not Feli."

Francis blinked and looked from the Captain and back to Lovino before asking, "It's not?"

"No," Lovino replied bitingly, "I'm fucking not."

Francis blinked, startled by the clear difference in personalities and did a quick scan of the room. "Well, where's Feli then?" he asked curiously before spotting him in the corner with the solemn looking blonde. For some reason Francis found this entertaining, "Oh my," He said, amusement clear in his voice, "Antonio would you look at that. He's talking with Ludwig."

"Hmmm?" Captain 'Antonio' craned his neck to see that Feliciano was indeed chattering away to the German who was looking uncharacteristically lost for words – Feli's personality can do that to a person – and unusually interested.

"Oh, Gilbert will be happy his brother's made a new friend," Antonio said happily. Lovino, however, grimaced painfully. The last thing he wanted was his brother getting friendly with that German bastard like that. The bloody kid would be heartbroken when the crew set sail and Feliciano was a real pain when he was upset. Not that he was worried for the brat, ungrateful little moron as he was.

Reluctantly pulling his gaze away from the pair Lovino discovered that Francis and Antonio were looking at him. No, Lovino correct, _studying _him. Comparing him to his brother no doubt which, for undisclosed reasons that most certainly _weren't _related to an inferiority complex, irked him.

"You're Feli's twin brother, _Sí_?" Antonio said with a bright smile before patting the stool beside him, "Come, sit with us! Feliciano was talking about you before. You sounded interesting."

Lovino regarded the proffered seat and the bright, sunny smile sceptically. Did the man really believe him so dull as to take a seat next to a man he didn't even know – a pirate no less – on a mere invitation simply on account of his being Feli's brother? Lovino felt as if his intelligence were being questioned here.

He took the seat anyway, if only for he caught a glimpse of a bulging little bag hanging haphazardly from the Captain's waist mere seconds ago. He was sure that he wouldn't mind too much if he were to take a little; the bastard had plenty more.

Antonio looked cheerful as his request was accepted and speared another slice of – was that raw tomato? – With his knife and he munched happily on it, _still_ eyeing Lovino in a way that _still _made him uncomfortable.

"So you're Lovi, hmm? Feli has been talking about you for much of the night," The Frenchman to the Captain's left flashed Lovino a bright smile, flicking golden locks so the rested on his shoulder and offered him up a smirk as his eyes watched Lovino shift in his seat.

"Don't call me that," he snapped irritably wishing the god-awful pet name would just vanish. It was bad enough Feliciano called him that without the brat _spreading _it. A disease, that's what it was. A fucking disease.

"But that's what Feli calls you," Antonio said, blinking innocently as he set his cutlery back down on the plate, little bag of money jingling softly at his hip as he did so. Lovino's gaze flickered down to it and back up quickly.

"My brother," he said, "doesn't listen."

"Your brother," Francis said with a soft purr as he watched Feli – who was now sitting across from Ludwig, engaged in a one-sided conversation – with eyes that Lovino wasn't quite sure he liked, "is adorable."

"Right," Lovino muttered, like he wasn't used to people pouring compliments on his brother like that, and he could practically _hear _the next comment Francis was about to make as he opened his mouth.

"You look so much alike," offered the flirtatious Frenchman with a wink.

"Stop hitting on me. And _don't _hit on my brother or I swear you'll never walk straight again," Lovino said bluntly, causing Antonio to choke on his drink as he spluttered in laughter while Francis stared blankly at Lovino, taking in his surly expression.

"I think you just got turned down," came a disgustingly German voice as Antonio and Francis slumped forward due to the sudden presence of a white-haired man leaning on the both of them, smirking up a storm and looking at Lovino with blood red eyes.

"Gilbert," the Captain said sounding positively delighted, "did you see your brother? He's talking with someone!"

The trio glanced backwards at Feli and Ludwig – who was now actually participating in the conversation – and watched the pair for a moment, as if they were witnessing something sacred. Lovino scowled, however. Feliciano was definitely getting _way _to friendly with that guy. Talks would be had when they got home, talks would be had…

Antonio was first to glance back and caught sight of Lovino's distinctly displeased expression, "You don't need to worry Lovi-" "- Don't call me that -" "- Ludwig is a good guy," he finished earnestly, smiling in a way that grated on Lovino's nerves for some reason.

"I wasn't worried," he snapped in return, flushing red, "I just happened to glance that way!"

"Ahh, So cute!" Antonio cried out, leaning forward to pinch Lovino's flaming red cheek between his thumb and forefinger, "You look just like a tomato!"

"What are you doing, bastard?" Lovino snapped, flushing all the deeper as he violently slapping Antonio's hand away. "Don't touch me!"

Antonio settled back in his chair with a contented smile. "But you're so cute Lovi! Tomato! Just like a tomato!"

"Don't call me a tomato either!"

"But it's a compliment~."

"How is being a tomato a compliment?"

Antonio looked at him as if he'd asked a particularly daft question. "Well, tomatoes are cute, aren't they?"

Loivno wasn't exactly sure what to make of that statement. Did the guy have a few screws lose or something? Well, apparently so, he thought as he watched Antonio grin widely at him, as if he expected him to be pleased with the previous statement.

Instead he contented himself with tossing the elder man an irritated look. The smile – blinding, Lovino would go _blind _from those perfectly straight teeth if he were exposed to it much longer – did not falter underneath Lovino glare. Francis watched the pair with the faintest traces of amusement on the edges of blue eyes.

This was getting ridiculous. "Stop smirking," Lovino snapped as he made to get to his feet, "what kind of pirate acts like a brain dead moron?"

He could hear I faint kind of moan – of surprise? – From Francis and a loud and obnoxious chuckle for Gilbert but Antonio still kept on smiling away, completely unperturbed. "But Lovi," he said cheerfully, "I like you. Why shouldn't I smile?"

Lovi gaped openly at him for a few seconds before spluttering wordlessly. Who _said _stuff like that? Didn't he realize how _gay_ that sounded? Made him look like a bloody moron? And, more importantly, made _Lovino _look like a moron?

"Don't say things like that," Lovino snapped, face beet red as he straightened up to walk away.

"Ahh, So cute! Ah, wait! Lovi where are you going?"

Lovino shot him an annoyed look over his shoulder as he stood but, as he made to walk away, his foot caught around the leg of his chair and he stumbled, falling slightly against Antonio as he did so, he hand landing awkwardly on the Captain's waist as he pushed himself up right, digging his hands in his pockets and he flushed even deeper.

Francis, much to Lovino's displeasure, looked incredibly amused with the whole situation while Gilbert – what kind of name was that anyway? – Cackled away madly in the background. He hoped the bastard got hit by a cannon ball someday soon so as to wipe that smug smirk away.

"Ah you okay Lovi?" Antonio asked, concern colouring his voice as he helped the younger Italian to his feet, giving him a quick once over to check for any injuries. Lovino wrenched himself away, glowering at the way he'd been so casually handled.

"Fine," He grunted and then made for the door quick smart, heart beating a thousand miles an hour as he felt something jingle in his pocket, brushing up against the clammy flesh of his palm. _Keep it cool, _he reminded himself as he tried hard to keep his pacing normal, _don't panic._

Lovino was nearly out the door when he heard a surprised yelp behind him that sounded as if one or two of the men in the room may have discovered a significant difference in the weight of their pouches. He wasn't sure whether to smirk at that or quicken his pace so he contented himself with a slightly quicker swagger. He didn't want to appear _eager _to get out, but after that 'scene' with Antonio it would only be normal to hurry out. _Balance, _he thought, _find the right balance between the two._

The second the door swung shut behind him leaving him alone on the empty streets, Lovino broke into a quick trot. Perfect. Nobody has seen him – he was all but home free. Mind so fixated on the thoughts of actually eating tonight he nearly missed the sound of creaking hinges as the tavern door was pushed open behind him.

"_Oi!" _

Lovino's heart dropped. He knew that tone. Recognized it well. _Caught, _it screamed, _you've been caught. Abandon mission! ABORT! Run! RUN! FUCKING RUN!_

Without turning around to look to see who was following him Lovino yanked his hands from his pockets and sped off down the street as the speed of light. Or a caught pick-pocket. Which, he supposed, he way.

"HEY! _Espera!" _

_No, _Lovino thinks as he turns down an alley, shoving rubbish cans over behind him to delay his pursuers, _I won't 'espera'. _

The chase is a feverish haze in Lovino's mind as he dashes along the empty streets of Belmont, stolen treasures clinking noisily in his pockets. The only thought that crosses his panicked mind is the command to run, to push his legs that little bit further and increase the distance between them. Being Italian as he is, running away is his speciality, and he sincerely hopes it'll be enough to get him through this minor crisis.

_They're the crew of The Scarlet Maiden_… What if was true?

Lovino shook his head franticly as he skidded down another darkened street. He didn't have time to think about things like that. He just needed to run. Nobody had caught him yet, and that wasn't about to start now. Not when he had Feli to protect. No. No time for thought. Just keep running. Run. Run. RUN!

But the sound of boots clicking on the road behind was becoming louder as his enemy drew nearer to him, determined to catch him and return what it was he'd stolen. _Good luck, _Lovino thought sarcastically.

Perhaps it had been a mistake to wish his opponent luck for only a moment later Lovino's foot caught on a piece of trash and he stumbled, barely catching himself on a nearby wall as he did so.

_Fuck. _

"Hold on a minute!"

No, Lovino didn't think he would, thanks.

Scrambling up right he made to continue his frantic dashing when a hand reached out and snagged him by his collar, dragging him backwards. Immediately the coward's instinct in Lovino caused him to lash out violently, struggling against the hand holding him back.

"LET ME THE FUCK GO!" He roared, letting all the anger he could seep it the words as he kicked and hit, finger scratching desperately at the hand holding him. _Let go, _he silently pleaded but his prayer went unheeded.

Suddenly there was a sharp pain in the back of his head and Lovino gasped, feeling the faint trickle of blood in his hair as the world suddenly swayed before him, eyes rolling back in his head as his legs refused to hold him up after taking the hit to the back of the head like that.

Lovino put the lest of strength into one last weak tug at the hand holding him before he allowed his body to slouch.

He vaguely felt somebody catch him as he fell, strong hands supporting his back as his consciousness began to fade into blackness. The last thing he caught sight of was the slight glimmer of golden earnings, the tussled look of a short ponytail and the brilliant green of a set of eyes staring down at him.

"Bastard," he muttered before relaxing back into the bliss of unconsciousness.

**A/N: I apologise for this atrocity :/**


	2. Satisfaction

**Chapter two – But satisfaction brought it back**

'_Ignorance is no excuse, it's the real thing.'__  
><em>**_– Irene Peter  
><em>**

At first Lovino wasn't sure what had woken up, all he knew was that he didn't appreciate it. He had been having a brilliant dream where he was waltzing through rooms and rooms full of tomatoes, all crying out to Lovino for him to pick them, and pick them he did, placing them in a basket swinging idly from his arm before taking a bite out of a particularly juicy one.

It wasn't often Lovino got to enjoy the sweet taste of the ripened fruit, so he was sincerely having a good time. Rolling over and groaning, Lovino felt a bitter taste of copper in his mouth that came from sleeping in awkward positions for extended lengths of time. It wasn't a pleasant sensation at all, but Lovino didn't think it was that which had awoken him.

Feliciano would be mad at him if he discovered that Lovino was still in bed. He would cry and accuse him of being a hypocrite for Lovino always forbade him from lying in for too long. Lovino supposed he could say he felt ill – which he did – but that would send Feli into tears.

_Are you okay brother? Do you need something? Should I get someone? Do you need some water? Something to eat? Do you want me to sing to you?_

Lovino snorted. Okay, maybe Feliciano was annoying, but not quite that bad. Only just, though, for it wasn't far off.

He tried to force himself up, truly he did, but the dull throb in the back of his head and the weight of his eyelids were conspiring against him. Rather than thinking it through and contemplating the consequences he simply allowed the gentle rocking to lull him back into sleep he so desperately wanted.

Wait. _Rocking? _

All thoughts of slumber gone from his mind Lovino shot up like a rocket, staring bewildered around the room he did not recognize. Flinging himself off the bed his limbs tangled in white sheets and caused him to fall to the ground unceremoniously. Cursing now, he clawed his way back up, swaying with the movements of the room as he dashed for the door, flinging it open to stagger outside.

He was greeted with the feeling of a cool breeze playing lightly along his skin, dark hair rustling as he stared open mouthed around him, seeing the way the stars glittered so openly in the darkened night, visible to him in ways they had never been before. Gaping, he rubbed his eyes, not exactly sure what to make of this new situation he had found himself in.

All around him he could hear the shouts and laughs of pirates as men walked past carrying various objects one would find on a ship, blood red sails making strange noises as the wind pushed them forward and the slight creaking of aged wood as gentle waves rocked the boat to and fro.

No way.

No _fucking_ way.

"Oh look, sunshine has risen," sneered an awfully familiar voice and Lovino turned to see Gilbert swaggering across the dock of the ship, a coil of oiled rope slung causally over his shoulder and a gaudy pirate hat cocked upon his greyish-white hair.

Lovino was understandably at a loss for words.

"What – where – WHAT THE FUCK?"

Gilbert smirked at him and ditched the rope on another pirate that just happened to be walking by, grabbing the man's shoulder as he did so, "Go get the Captain and tell him his souvenir from Belmont is up."

The man gave a quick nod and scampered off, significantly weighed down by the hefty coils. Gilbert gave a quick snort before returning his attention to Lovino. "Pick pocketing a pirate is a bad idea," he advised as he swaggered over to the stunned little Italian with his hands firmly tucked in his pockets, "They might just, you know, kidnap you or something… 'Cause we're awesome like that."

"You kidnapped me," Lovino said in disbelief, "Because I took a few or your coins? What kind of shitty fucked up reasoning is that?"

Gilbert tilted his head to the side as he mulled this over, red eyes lively with some kind of – seriously annoying – delight. "I never thought of it that way, but yeah, I guess you could say that. And it's _awesome _reasoning, not that you would understand anything about being awesome."

"Stop teasing him," came the call from a new approaching figure and if Lovino thought that his current predicament couldn't get any worse he was proven wrong as he caught sight of shoulder length blonde hair and a chin of stubble. "Antonio's on his way over now," Francis said.

Because Lovino is by nature a very angry person he takes this opportunity to round on the Frenchman – _angrily _round on the Frenchman – while practically spitting fire.

"Who the FUCK kidnaps someone over a few pieces of gold? You're fucking moronic! This is stupid as shit! I demand you take me back to Belmont right now you bastard!"

Francis held up his hands in front of him in mock defence. "_féroce_," Francis purred as he looked disinterestedly at the backs of the hands he held up, as if examining them for blemishes, "And please, we are _pirates; _whom have been known to do much worse for much lesser. Also, it was the Captain who made the call to take you with us and I suggest you don't be quite so rude to him after all he's done for you."

"Done for me?" Lovino repeated in disbelief before throwing his hands in the air. "He hasn't done anything for me! Besides kidnap me!"

"Ah! Lovi!"

Lovino recognized that cheerful voice, that annoying nickname that had the misfortune to spread, he even recognized the swift sound of hurried boot steps upon the wood of the boat.

Turning around he was greeted with a very familiar Spanish face, grinning cheerfully at him like the bastard had no idea how _mad_ he was right now. Balling up his hands into fists, Lovino prepared to show Antonio a piece of his mind.

"You're awake," he said as he came to a stop in front of the young Italian, almost _glowing_ for Christ sakes.

"What," Lovino hissed through tightly clenched teeth, "Am I doing on this ship?"

"Erm, standing?" Answered the man uncertainly.

It was official. He was an _idiot_.

"You know what I mean! Why am I here! Why?"

Antonio tilted is head to the side to better survey him, an almost puzzled look crossing his face. "Well… You tried to steal from me… And, well I thought that was kind of amazing."

"… What?"

"It's not often somebody pickpockets me knowing who we are," chirped the Spaniard with another blinding grin, looking like for all the world having his belongs stolen didn't matter in the slightest.

"That's why you took me…?"

"And you're so cute!" Cooed the captain, making to pinch Lovino's cheek only to have his fingers batted away.

Lovino narrowed his glare and hissed out, "my head still hurts."

Antonio's expression did a complete turn around and he went from looks cheerful and joyful to remorseful and chagrined. Eyes sliding to the side he flicked a slight glance up at Lovino like a kicked puppy. "I'm sorry about that… I didn't mean to hit you that hard…"

"You didn't mean to?" Lovino repeated flatly.

"W-well, you were flailing around and you wouldn't stop shouting and you hit me in the face," it was at this moment Lovino noticed a slight discoloration blooming magnificently on the tanned skin of Antonio's cheek, "And I just kind of tried to get you to be quiet… I didn't mean to hurt you though…"

It was incredibly hard to feel mad when the Captain of such a feared pirate ship was looking at you like that but_ god damn it_, Lovino was _trying_. "You tried to get me to be quite the pirate way, heh?" He sneered.

"What's wrong with pirates?" Gilbert chipped in with a mock offended look that didn't quite suit his strong German facial features. Lovino tossed him a glare, a retort right on the end of his tongue until he bit it back, remembering where he happened to be standing and deciding taking a stab at pirates was probably not the best idea.

"I'm sorry?" Antonio repeated again, slightly cautious in case he set the younger boy off again.

"About my head or the kidnapping?" Lovino snapped rhetorically.

"About your head," Antonio answered anyway, completely serious, "Definitely the head."

Lovino was in a bad enough mood as it was without Francis draping himself over the small frame and all but purring in his ear, "It's not so bad _Mon Cher_. A pirate's life grows on you."

Lovino responded by shoving his elbow firmly in the gut of the Frenchman, causing him to stumble away gasping for breath and clutching his midriff. Gilbert caught his friend before he tripped over a nearby barrel but seemed completely devoid of sympathy as he cackled evilly. Antonio narrowed his eyes, "Not cute," he said.

"I don't care if it's not cute," Lovino snapped, "It wasn't my intention to be 'cute'. And I don't wanna be a bloody pirate! I want to go back to Belmont and look after my brother! God knows he's incapable of doing anything without me!"

Antonio's expression brightened at this. "Oh, you don't want to be here because you're worried about Feli!" Lovino thought that the expression the elder man was wearing was just a tad too cheery for this line of conversation. "But that's okay, because Feli's here too!"

Lovino stared blankly at the Captain for a moment, incapable of summing up the words he wanted. "… What?"

"Well, when we were taking you off to the ship Feliciano appeared and he begged us to take him with us so he could stay with you. And, no one was particularly opposed… And he gets along so well with Ludwig, so we agreed!"

Antonio smiled winningly at Lovino, while the younger just gapped.

"You took my brother onto a pirate ship?"

"Well to be fair, we took both of you," Gilbert said with a grin that made Lovino want to break something.

"See? Everything's okay now Lovi! Your brother's here so you won't be separated, and you're here so you won't pick pockets anymore, and we're offering you the chance to become a pirate!"

"I want to see Feliciano," Lovino said bluntly, paying no heed to the endless chatter around him. Antonio looked momentarily disappointed that he wasn't receiving any response from his speech but nodded none the less.

"I think he's currently sleeping in Ludwig's room…"

Lovino looked appalled. "You left him alone with that bastard?"

"Hey," Gilbert snapped, "that 'bastard' happens to be my little bro! And while he's not as awesome as me, don't talk about him like that or I'll – Hey, runt, are you listening to me!"

As a matter a fact, he wasn't, Lovino was currently being led across the ship by Francis and Antonio, paying no mind to the ranting German. "Ludwig's a good guy," Antonio was saying, "I don't know why you dislike him so much."

"I wouldn't dislike him if he left my brother alone," Lovino muttered for his ears only. It had often been said by the people of Belmont that if you mess with the younger of the Vargas brothers the elder will have you throat. Lovino had, on occasions, taken over protective to the limits.

A wave rocked the ship again and Lovino found himself stumbling, still unused to the ways of sea travel. As he staggered away from the group he felt a strong grip on his wrist jerk him back, an arm enclosed around him and he looked up to find – with extreme displeasure – that Antonio was holding him against his chest with an amused look. Lovino wrinkled his nose and disentangled himself from the Captain's arms muttering something along the lines of, _"I don't need your help_."

Francis watched this with a slightly raised eyebrow and a significant smirk, _I see, I see, I see… _

The group eventually reached the door they'd been searching for and Antonio knocked lightly on it, calling out softly, "Ludwig? Are you in there?" they could hear a rustle of movement and the next moment the door was flung open to reveal the Germany that Lovino had devolved such a distaste for standing there, straight backed and feet together, looking more like a man of the military than a pirate.

"Captain," he greeted formally. Lovino half expected him to raise his hand in a salute but he did no. Perhaps Antonio had told him not to in the past? Lovino snorted. That seemed like an incredibly likely possibility. Glancing back at Gilbert – who was currently talking to a small yellow bird who had randomly popped out from his collar – Lovino found it hard to believe the pair were related.

"Sorry to bother you this late Ludwig, But Feliciano was staying with you, was he not?" Antonio said pleasantly and Ludwig allowed his stiff posture to relax a little and gave a small nod, eyes flicking over to Lovino – who was scowling, of course – before taking a step back to allow entry into his room.

Lovino did not hesitate, pushing past an objecting Francis and stepping into the darkened room, immediately spotting a tell-tale curl poking out from the depths of a fluffy looking pillow and hearing a contented snore. _The brat! How dare he be sleeping in circumstances like this! _

"Let's give them a moment on their own," Antonio murmured silently and there was the soft mewl of protest from Francis but a moment later the door shut, significantly cutting the amount of brightness leaking into the small cabin. Feliciano gave a small mutter at the sudden change in lighting and rolled over in his sleep.

Lovino felt his frown deepen as he watched his brother sleeping away so contently in that German bastards bed. A quick glance to the side showed a chair standing sentry next to it. Lovino suspected that was where Ludwig had been sitting upon their arrival. At least, it better have been or heads would start to roll.

Another snort from Feliciano jerked Lovino's attention back and after a slight moment of contemplation the elder reached down and tugged the thin blanket off the bed and when that didn't rouse his brother gave the mattress an almighty kick.

Feliciano yelped lightly as he bounced on the bed, pulling himself up right to blink blearily at his brother. A drowsy look smile spread out across his lips. "Good morning Fratello," he greeted sleepily, yawning softly.

Gritting his teeth Lovino snapped, "Don't 'good morning Fratallo' me! Do you have any idea what kind of situation you've landed yourself in?"

Feliciano had the good grace to look slightly abashed at this, but it did far from satisfy Lovino when his chagrined expression was soon followed by, "But you're the one who picked the pockets, brother. So it's really _you _who landed us in this situation."

Lovino spluttered soundlessly for a moment – he had no idea where his brother had picked up that kind of sass, but it certainly wasn't from _him _… okay, maybe it was – but he didn't appreciate it. "Well," he growled in return, "You didn't have to follow me!"

His twin looked slightly hurt at this statement. "But Lovi," he protested meekly, "I didn't want to be separated from you. Why would you say not to follow you?" It was hard to resist that cutesy puppy dog eyes that Feliciano was aiming at him but Lovino wasn't about to admit a loss.

"Stop looking at me like that," Lovino snapped, "and you shouldn't have followed me because who the _fuck _willingly walks onto a pirate ship like that? Nobody with half a fucking brain that's for sure! You're an idiot!"

Feliciano didn't even look remotely bothered by this and instead smiled charmingly up at his irritated brother, "But I like pirates! And Antonio's crew is really nice! I wanted to spend more time with them, Vee~."

"You mean spend more time with that damn potato eater," Lovino accused.

Ignoring the statement with more tact then Lovino thought his brother actually possessed Feliciano said sweetly, head cocked gently to the side, "You sound like you don't like Ludwig…"

Lovino shot him a glare that rivalled that of any poisonous animal. "Of course I don't fucking like him. What's there to like?"

A pout. "You don't even know him yet Lovi."

"Nor do I plan on ever."

"But you have to," Feliciano argued reasonably, "If you're both living on the same ship."

"We're not staying on this ship fuckwit! We're going back to Belmont!"

"Why?"

"… What do you mean _why_?"

Feliciano shifted uneasily, sensing the rapid irritation forming around his elder twin. "Why can't we stay here? Why _must _we go back to Belomont?"

Lovino was floored. What kind of dumb ass question was that?

"Because Belmont's our home. We _live _there. We have people waiting for us!"

"Like who?" Feliciano asked in a way that was almost sneaky.

"Well… Erm, ah… We have… shut up!" Lovino snapped, clearly flustered as he raked his brain for someone, _anyone, _who would even notice they were gone. Feliciano's boss maybe, but to say that piece of crap would care might be pushing it.

"We have commitments," Lovino said, switching tact.

"Like?"

"Debts. Loans. People who are waiting for their money back, gotta pay off things…" He trailed off. Perhaps he wasn't making a very convincing argument as to why they should head back. If anything he was simply giving himself more reasons to stay on this blasted pirate ship.

"Look, we just can't _stay_ here!"

Feliciano gave Lovino a look. Feliciano didn't often give looks – that was more of Lovino's department – so when he did it had a particular significant feel about it. "Fratello," he said sternly, "I think you're just being stubborn."

"I'm not being stubborn," Lovino insisted, "You're just failing to see that being kidnapped by a band of pirates is a _bad _thing."

"It's not kidnapping…"

"Easy for you to say! You just walked on the ship! I was knocked out and _dragged _on here! They're bloody thugs!"

Feliciano wisely chose not to mention the amount of fights Lovino had gotten into back home in Belmont. He did, however, mention Lovino's career of picking pockets to keep them afloat.

"That's different," the elder twin stammered.

"How so?"

"Stop asking dumb questions! You're being difficult!"

Feliciano fell silent but pouted softly up at his brother in a way he knew made it incredibly hard for him to resist.

Lovino himself began to feel a headache coming on. This conversation was giving him a migraine. This _situation _was giving him a migraine. Why couldn't life simply go his way for once? Instead he was stuck with the most feared pirate crew of the seas, an idiotic Captain that had taken an unfortunate liking to him and a brother who didn't seem to grasp the depth of the current situation.

Face palming felt appropriate.


	3. Stuck between a rock

**Chapter three – Stuck between a rock**

'_Any idiot can face a crisis - it's day to day living that wears you out.'_  
><strong>– Anton Chekhov<br>**

It had been a week or so since Lovino had had the misfortune to be dragged upon this god forsaken pirate ship. At least it _felt _like a week; it was getting increasingly hard for him to find any measure of time as he was worked mercilessly to the bone.

"My hands," Feli sobbed miserably one day as the pair of them tugged fruitlessly on a thick length of rope, "they're covered in blisters, frattelo, look!" as if to prove his point the younger twin shoved his battered hands under Lovino's nose for inspection.

Unfortunately for Feliciano his elder brothers well of sympathy was run dry. Lovino's own hands were feeling sore and swollen, but a lifetime of being a pickpocket had at least provided him with slightly more dexterity then his brother. However, despite the clear advantage he had, Lovino had been doing more work than his brother. Feliciano had always been a cry baby. As soon as the work became too much for him he'd begin to tear up and be led away to 'calm down' by the potato bastard. This meant that Lovino was doing Feliciano's share of the work oftentimes as well and seeing as how he himself had always been known for his particularly lazy disposition, this didn't exactly sit well with him as one could imagine.

Shoving the offending appendage away he snapped sourly, "You _wanted _to be on a pirate ship. Don't complain about the results. Now shut the fuck up and get to work."

For Lovino, his new life on the pirate ship was as tiring and aggravating as his old life back in Belmont. There was no respite for him wherever he turned. Something always needed doing, there was always someone to show him how to do something new – and equally annoying – and no matter _where_ he went he _couldn't_ escape the bastard of a Captain that had clearly taken a great liking to him for some completely incomprehensible reason.

Lovino swore under his breath and gave the rope one last aggravated tug before it tightened enough to be quickly tied to a nearby wooden pole with the expert hands of a helping pirate. "That should do it I reckon," the bronze shipmate grinned, giving Lovino a hearty slap on his back, "you and your brother can go rustle up somethin' to eat. You two have been out here long enough."

"Gee," Lovino muttered dully, "thanks."

The pirate grinned at Lovino's retreating back as the young ward trudged meekly across the deck, a picture of irritation and reluctance. The boy was clearly not enjoying the amount of work this new life forced upon him. He would learn, the pirate though distractedly as he tightened the knot, and he would learn quick if he wanted to survive.

Feli was waiting with a plate of food upon Lovino's release having snuck off only moments earlier. Lovino shot him a sour look but his younger brother just gave him a grin, apparently pleased with himself for providing his surly twin with something to quell his appetite.

Snatching the sandwich from lightly coloured hands, Lovino marched away to eat alone, and in silence, by the edge of the ship. He heard Feliciano give a small squeak of protest but before he could approach somebody called his name and the younger of the two was forced to walk away and leave his brother to his attractive sulking.

Lovino watched as the waves gently pushed against the hull of the boat, rocking the massive mix of wood and sails back and forth in a way that _should _be comforting but instead Lovino found vaguely annoying. He found a lot of things annoying though, come to think of it, so perhaps that made this whole situation nothing special in terms of distrainment. He finished off this particularly deep thought by taking a bite of his bread, softening his expression at the slightly bitter taste of peppered meat.

Turning to look over his should to make sure he was still in solitude he allowed himself another bite, almost moaning in satisfaction. Back in Belmont meat had been a rare treat. After buying bread and other necessities there was never enough money left for luxurious such as that.

"Lovi~!"

Lovino grimaced. He recognized that voice anywhere. Obnoxiously cheerful and spouting a certain annoying nickname. Turning slowly – for he wanted to savour the moment where he didn't have to look at that bastards face – Lovino frowned at the bane of his existence.

Antonio looked as chipper as always, swathed in his handsome Captain's coat with his favourite hat perched gently upon his messy brunette hair, a pistol tucked under his coat and a cutlass hanging comfortably from his hip.

Lovino turned away and resumed his eating.

"Why must you be so cold?" Antonio called sadly as he settled on the railing beside his feisty little Italian, pouting playfully at him as the breeze tossed his hair lightly over his shoulder. Lovino frowned at him and waited until he devoured the last piece of crust before answering.

"Maybe if you left me alone…" he muttered, dusting the last grains of pepper from his hands and watching as the fine blackness fell into the oceanic depths, lost in the foam below. Fed and now content he wondered how long he would have free of work before someone or another dragged him off to another tiring chore.

"How are you coping?" Antonio asked softly, voice serious and eyes watching the fast-fading-to-black horizon, perhaps sensing his gaze would only irritate the young teen beside him. Lovino shrugged ambiguously, not gracing the elder man with an answer. It was partly because he was in no mood to chat and partly because he was in loathe to admit that this past week, although by no means satisfying or comfortable, wasn't nearly as bad as life in Belmont had been prior to this, though he would never let those words slip in front of Antonio.

"That's good," Antonio said cheerfully anyway, apparently take this silence as an affirmation of his ships relaxing nature. Lovino shot him a nasty look in return which the elder man apparently seemed to miss.

"Whatever, all this work is bullshit," Lovino snorted, turning away from the sea in order to stomp away in search of his brother – whom he was sure he would find curled up somewhere with that bastard potato eater. The pair of them were becoming far too friendly for his liking.

A deep scowl spread out across his face and he kicked sourly at the deck. Antonio – damn him – seemed to pick up what was on Lovino's mind in a mere second. It could get annoying, really, the Captains odd habit of reading his thoughts like that.

"Feliciano is with Ludwig," he said chirpily, swinging his foot back and forth idly as he stared cheerfully out at the ocean with a contented smile upon his lips.

Lovino grunted in acknowledgment, frowning ever deeper he asked, reluctantly so, as he hated to ask Antonio for _anything_, "Do you know where they are?"

Antonio glanced away from his beloved sea and ship to look curiously at the little Italian. He seemed to contemplate something for a moment before cracking a wide smile and teasingly saying, "I'm not telling~!"

Lovino stared at him, flabbergast. "What?" He spat. "Why?"

"Hmm… Because you'll go up and pester them. Ludwig's a good guy; you shouldn't dislike him so much…"

"He's not a good guy," Lovino said insistently, "not to so long as he's hanging out with my little brother." Spotting the slight grin about to blossom upon Antonio's face he hurriedly corrected with a rushed, "Because Feli's a fucking idiot and that bloody potato eater could take advantage of him and the moron wouldn't even notice."

His explanation did little to quash Antonio's sudden grin as he tossed his arms around the little Italian and said, "That's so cute! You're such a devoted brother Lovi!"

"Lemme go," Lovino muttered, struggling against the unwanted hug he was caught in and failing miserably to escape. Lovino, for the life of him, could never understand with the Captain was so fixated on him so much. He was irritable, bad tempered, swore more often than not and was rather violent. He couldn't fathom how _anybody _could look past these qualities.

"But I don't want to," He pouted, the oblivious idiots lips brushing on his cheek due to their close proximity.

That was the last straw.

"Not cute," Antonio gasped, clutching his winded stomach as Lovino stormed away.

oOo_oOo_oOo

Lovino sulked for the rest of the day after failing to find his brother. It was starting to irk him the way Feliciano had latched on to Ludwig. For as long as he could remember it had only been the two of them, alone, with nobody to rely on but each other. He was starting to worry that those days were coming to an end with this strange twist of fate that had seen them placed upon the pirate ship.

Lovino didn't want to contemplate what it would mean for him if Feliciano found a more permanent source of protection in his attachment with Ludwig. Lovino had spent the vast majority of his life as nothing more than a big brother for Feli to find solace in, shielding the younger of the two from the tribulations and trials of the world. Who had it been who ventured – selfishly, if he may add – out on to the streets to pick pockets and swindle hapless tourists after their grandpa had died and left them penniless and homeless? Who had it been that had helped secure Feli the work in a small tavern to prevent him from the same lifestyle as Lovino himself?

Feli had clearly forgotten all this or he would not be abandoning him like this.

At first it had seemed that their sudden inclusion on the pirate ship would leave Feli in need of protection more than ever but Lovino hadn't banked on a usurper of his position being in the midst of all this crap. A usurper with feelings far different from Lovino's own brotherly protectiveness. Feelings that Lovino would _not _allow to progress even if he had to tear the German prick's balls off, consequences be damned.

Wrinkling his nose and shaking his head slightly as if to send those irritating thoughts spiralling away Lovino straightened up and glanced sneakily around the empty section of dock he was hunkered down in. He would freely admit that he was hiding from the rest of the crew in an attempt to avoid work. It just wasn't his thing, working hard for the benefit of others.

He got to his feet in one well practised move – heaven forbid the boat rock while he was wasting time standing and send him staggering about – and ran one hand through thick, dark hair in a vain attempt to tame it a little before he approached what looked like a good place to siesta, hoping to maybe catch a few z's before he was discovered slacking.

"Oi! New guy!"

Lovino winced at his sneaking was caught by a crew member who had passed by with bad timing. Half of Lovino wanted to made a mad dash anyway but the more reasonable fragment of his mind argued that such a plan was _beyond_ stupid and _completely_ irrational and he should just suck it up already.

Lovino disagreed in turn that it wasn't _that _stupid of a plan, and pirates were awfully dim-witted and maybe the bastard behind him would think he'd hallucinated the whole thing. Lovino was about to wisely point out the flaws in that statement when he realized, for the first time, he was having a full on argument with himself which, he noted, did not bode well for his mental health.

Reluctantly turning around the young Italian made a show of glaring at the bandanna donning pirate before him but – Zeke, wasn't it? – looked completely nonplussed, not even noticing the agitated crinkles forming on Lovino's forehead. "The Captain's been looking for you! Wanted to tell you somethin'."

Lovino's already irritated persona was not encouraged by these words, "What about?" He snapped and received a half-hearted shrug from the pirate in return.

"Why don't you go see the Captain? He's the man with the plan."

Lovino frowned and waved a hand, "I think I'll pass," he said.

"The Captain said you'd say that. He said to tell you that it was an order then."

Dang bastard pulling power like that. Using his influence against him. Lovino frowned and replied with a snarky, "Fine. I'll go find him in a minute."

Zeke – apparently none too bright just as Lovino had deduced – turned too swagged away, not even paying attention to the young Italian as he went.

Lovino smirked as he watched him leave. The minute he was out of sight he turned and resumed making his way over to nestle himself in a particularly comfortable looking pile of rope that was sneakily hidden from site.

Whatever the bastard was after could wait until after he'd had his nap.

oOo_oOo_oOo

When Lovino finally decided to go on hunt for something to eat – his stomach was growling something awful – he was surprised to find that the dock had become a mess of hurried movements and shouting as pirates dashed back and forth, hollering cheerfully to each other as they went.

While Lovino had grown to accept the constant commotion that being on a pirate ship ensured, he felt that it was even more hectic than normal. So he snagged the sleeve of the next guy who passed him, tugging the man to a halt and asking, "What's going on?"

The man shot him a cheerful grin, "Got land in sight. We're gonna be docking soon in order to get supplies," Was all he said before he dashed away to assist somebody who was rolling what looked to be an empty barrel across deck.

Somewhere between annoyed at the amount of noise that was happening and excited at the prospect of being allowed on land again Lovino gave a sigh. Land. That sounded great. More than great, in fact. It sounding fucking fantastic.

Good cheer restored – well, as good cheer as Lovino ever was – he went on a search for his brother. Again. It was, however, all but impossible to find him in the current situation and Lovino found his recently quietened temperament beginning to grow more and more irritated as the time he wasted looking for Feli dragged on and on. He better not find him curled up somewhere with that damn potato bastard…

He didn't, as it so turned out. Because really, he didn't find Feli at all.

"Useless moron," He muttered under his breath before stepping back and allowing a small group of his shipmates to pass by, laughing happily as they did so. Everyone seemed cheered by the prospect of land.

"Lovi~!"

Even those who normally couldn't get any more cheerful.

Antonio approached Lovino with a wide grin on his face –as per usual – but a certain exaggerated bounce in his steps that was a new instalment. Lovino raised his eyebrows at him and leaned against a nearby wall while the bastard approached.

"I heard we're gonna dock," he said in way of greeting when Antonio finally reached him. The ever exuberant Captain gave a nod.

"We need supplies! We're heading in the direction of England next and we can't make it with what we've got on ship."

"Why are we heading to England?" Lovino asked curiously. Antonio winced a bit in response and Lovino tilted his head to the side to better observe from a different angle.

"I have somebody I want to… _talk _with," He wrinkled his nose unpleasantly as if he were being subjected to a particularly bad odour. Lovino found that interesting. He'd never thought Antonio could have anyone he disliked with his naturally friendly disposition but apparently the young Italian had been wrong on that count.

"Hmmm," Lovino said instead of asking for a name. He was interested but not really all that curious in the long run. Antonio didn't object to the subject drop but instead regained his good humour.

"Are you going to come on land Lovi?"

"One, that's not my name," Lovino grunted, "Two, no fucking shit. I want a real shower and I can't wait till I fucking stop rocking all the time."

Not offended in the least Antonio gave a hearty laugh, "You'll need to get your land-legs back first," he said, "It's always difficult to go from being at sea to a long time to being on land again."

"I'm sure I'll manage," Lovino assured him and instantly regretted it when the elder man captured him in a fierce hug, cooing in his ear. "Stop it!" The Italian snapped, struggling against the iron grip he was caught in, "Don't you ever stop touching people?"

"Just you," Antonio grinned as Lovino finally fought his way free.

"Well don't!"

"But you're so cute~!"

"And you're a fucking bastard!"

"Naww, that's not nice," he pouted and Lovino was beginning to suspect talking with Antonio was nothing more than continuously going round and round in circles. Didn't all of their conversations end in something like this manner?

"Let me go or it's your ribs I'll be breaking," Lovino warned him as he thrust an elbow backwards, narrowly missing the elder man's guts as his attempt went wide. He could feel the vibrations in Antonio's chest as he chuckled.

"You wouldn't break my ribs," Antonio said with complete confidence.

"Wanna fucking test me?"

"Let me rephrase. You _couldn't_ break my ribs," Antonio smirked and Lovino resisted the urge to knee him where it hurt. He didn't want to test exactly what the pirate Captain could do if he were pressed. One didn't just became infamous for his good looks.

N-not that he had good looks. _Mildly _attractive Lovino would give but nothing else. He didn't want to inflate the man's ego all the more.

"I can't breathe with you crushing me," he said instead and was rewarded when Antonio hastily relinquished his grip and stepped back. Lovino took a deep breath just for show and nearly smirked himself when he saw the concerned look in the Spaniard's eyes.

"I can breathe now," He assured him, "It's one of those mysteries of life. Why you can't fucking breathe when somebody's crushing the life out of you."

Antonio gave a laugh and reached over to pinch Lovino's cheek much to the Italian's displeasure. "Will you stop with the touching?" He snapped and received a cheeky grin from the dreaded pirate Captain before the man shot him a wink and swaggered away.

Lovino watched him go with a frown. "I'm serious bastard!" Lovino called to his retreating back, "Touch me one more time and I swear!"

All he received for his troubles was a light chuckle and an "I'll see you later Lovi!"

He would not be seeing him later, rest assured, because Lovino planned on tossing the prick overboard while he slept. The Italian briefly entertained himself with a mental image of standing proudly on the helm of the ship, Antonio's coat sitting proudly on his shoulders while he stared fearlessly out at the ocean, hair swishing attractively in the wind as his good looks sent women to their knees.

He sniggered. Yeah right. Never going to happen.

Antonio was the only one who could pull off that coat.


	4. The events of the docking

**Chapter four – The events of the docking**_  
><em>_  
><em>_'Every silver lining has a cloud'__**  
>– Mary Kay Ash<strong>__  
><em>

With the promise of land not far away Lovino found himself unable to sleep. Not that he _needed_ to, per se. The sun was still up and, in all honesty, he was _meant _to be assisting another shipmate with sorting through some of the supplies… but it was approaching the perfect time for another siesta, and Lovino was not normally one to shirk those off.

He'd considered briefly going on another hunt for Feliciano but even that task had lost its appeal. His brother was much more familiar with the ship than he was and, in all likely good, hunkered down in Ludwig's room having a nap – even though Lovino didn't really want to consider it as a possibility.

Despite the pair of them being assigned to sleep below deck with the rest of the lowly crew, Feli was more often than not seen napping away in the comfort of Ludwig's small little cabin. The only other people on the ship who had been lucky enough to score a secluded room were Francis, Gilbert and of course Antonio, being Captain and all.

A dark scowl pulled at Lovino's facial features as he nestled himself down into a more comfy position. Well… As comfortable as one can get when they're wedged in the tight space between the edge of the ship and a cabin wall. The sulky Italian had discovered the hiding place about an hour and a half ago, shortly after the conclusion to the annoying conversation with the annoying Spaniard Captain and had been huddled here ever since.

Not hiding, let it be known, because Lovino was simply too manly to hide. He was just… trying to avoid being handed more work. The closer they drew to land the more labour seemed to arise and Lovino had no intention of being handed more tiring tasks when he was perfectly capable of evading it.

Sighing, the irritable Italian blew a strand of auburn hair from his face, glaring sullenly as a light breeze gusted by, chilling his exposed face with its oceanic iciness.

Land.

Dear god that sounded _good_.

It had been far too long since he'd felt the firm press of the ground against the soles of his feet. Okay, it'd been a week, two tops. But Lovino had never sailed before a day in his life and he would have preferred to have not been so unwillingly thrust upon this rocking ship for such an extended length of time.

A shower. It sounded heavenly.

Lovino began to allow his thought to gradually gravitate to what he was looking forward to most as soon as they're ship pulled up at the dock. And while a chance at peaceful bathing was definitely somewhere near the top of the list, it wasn't _the _top.

If anything, Lovino thought with a small grimace of anticipation, he was simply looking forward to the feeling of solid ground. Never had he thought it would have been possible to miss such a normal sensation so much but he was managing. Not even a month on a ship and he was already sick of the endless waves and the bluey-green depths of the freezing water.

A small shiver ran down his spine. One week and he couldn't stand it and he was meant to _live _on this ship from here on out? Was such a life even possible with his rapidly growing strong aversion to the seas?

Lovino briefly entertained himself with thoughts of running away when they reached land. Of simply dashing off and cackling madly, perhaps turning to shout loudly over his shoulder, "_Arrivederci suckers!"_

He frowned and let out a disgruntled huff. Never going to happen. He couldn't simply up and vanish and leave Feliciano behind; no matter how tempting it was in order to escape the idiot Captain. And besides, what would he do after he ran off? Start up a new life in the port town picking pockets? _Again. _Try and find his way back to Belmont? No. It was in his – and Feliciano's – best interests if they just stayed aboard the ship for now. If ever the opportunity arose to quietly disembark and peacefully live out their days – far away from sea water, let it be known – he'd take it.

Lovino let out an annoyed grunt and squirmed further towards the cabin wall until his back was pressed against the rough wood and he was effectively able to wiggle his way to his feet without using his hands – they were wedged tightly in his armpits – while trying to keep himself warm.

The weather had taken a chilly turn and Lovino was left shivering. Seeing as how he'd been snatched there hadn't exactly had time to pack for an extended voyage, leaving him to freeze in his thin cotton shirt, the threadbare vest draped over his skinny shoulders wasn't exactly a warm jacket to boot.

Lovino gave his pocket a quick to shake and was satisfied to hear a distinct jingling. A few clothes wouldn't go amiss when he reached shore either. Some for Feliciano too.

Reassured that he wouldn't be suffering in the freezing winds anymore Lovino left his little nook, expecting that they wouldn't be much far off docking. Indeed, he'd no sooner stepped around to the more occupied part of the ship when he was jumped by his excitable twin.

"Lovi, Lovi, we're going to dock! Isn't that great? They're going to get supplies and we're allowed to come – so long as we don't wander off, Ludwig said, because then Antonio would be mad. And we can get away from all the work for a moment! It's great, isn't it?" Felicano was bobbing up and down beside his elder brother, grinning magnificently from ear to ear as he tugged – annoyingly – at Lovino's sleeve.

"Stop it," snapped the irritable brunet, wrenching himself free from the grip. "I already _know_. I've known for ages. What about you, huh? Where were you?"

Feliciano's gaze slid slightly to the left. "Err… Anyway, are you going to –."

"You were hanging out with that bastard potato eater again."

Feliciano gave a very out of character sigh before slowly adjusting his sight so he was looking nervously up at his brother. "I like Ludwig," he said, "And nothing you say is going to stop me hanging out with him."

Lovino spluttered for a moment. It was a rare occurrence indeed for Feliciano to defy him like this. Where had his sweet and agreeable little brother gone?

"He's a _pirate_!"

"_We're_ pirates," Feliciano corrected.

"We're not pirates!" Lovino snapped, "We just happened to be on a pirate ship! That doesn't make _us _pirates!"

"But I _want_ to be a pirate," Feliciano pouted, fluttering his eyelashes up at Lovino as he once again tugged on the elders sleeve. Lovino had to wonder when this conversation changed. Weren't they talking about that bastard of a German? No, wait, weren't they talking about _land_? Lovino gave a sigh and rubbed his temple with his free hand. This whole conversation was giving him a headache.

"Look, we're not pirates, nor are we going to be. We're just bumming around until something better comes up," Lovino saw Feliciano open his mouth to argue and added an annoyed, "End of discussion," to his sentence before – once again – pulling his arm free and striding away to the edge of the ship, pushing his way through chattering pirates to do so.

Resting his arms on the smooth wood he leant over the side and was greeted with the pleasant sight of an incoming portside town, a wooden dock waiting patiently for their ship to arrive. There was a lot of bustling and shouting behind him as the pirates of _The Scarlet Maiden _rushed to and fro in preparation for their docking.

Lovino tried not to – he really did – but in the end he craned his neck to peek over his shoulder, looking for Feliciano. He may have snapped at his brother but, in all honesty, he was just a little bitter about the way he'd been practically abandoned in favour of… _Ludwig. _However, his brother was nothing more than a head of messy hair making its way away from Lovino and toward the tall German.

Lovino whipped back around and scowled angrily kicking violently at the ships side as he did. So that's how it was, huh? That's fine. Feliciano could look after himself or get the potato bastard to do it for him. Lovino didn't care. See? This was him not caring – and he was doing a pretty dang good job of it if he did say.

He watched as a pirate leapt skilfully down onto the dock, staggering a bit before hollering upwards and being tossed a rope to tie off. Good cheer was in the air as those who were heading for supplies gathered around the piece of wood they were using to cross the small distance between the rocking ship and wooden boards of the dock.

Lovino waited irritably until he could reach his turn. Setting one foot on the plank and then another he gave an alarmed cry as he wobbled dangerously only to be stopped from falling by steady hands on his waist holding him in place. He turned to see that Antonio was standing behind him, smiling brightly.

"You have to be careful not to fall Lovi," he instructed and Lovino gave a disgruntled snort and pushed the Captain's hands away.

"I didn't need help," he muttered and quickly crossed the plank with steady footsteps, leaping off the end and flushing a bit as he stumbled, unprepared for the strange rocking sensation that was a result of spending so long on a ship. He heard the tinkling sound of Antonio laughing and then the sharp creaks of the plank protesting as the Captain went to cross. In one swift move Lovino straightened up and walked off as fast as he could, having no desire to be stuck being teased by Antonio the whole time.

"Lovi!"

Lovino ignored the call and stepped off the dock and into the streets of the town, pretending not to notice the curious stares of the inhabitants as he made his way through the crowd – being sure to head in the opposite direction most of the pirates were heading.

Quickly the familiar sounds of his new comrades blended into the meaningless chatter of the town and Lovino took a discrete glance over his shoulder, satisfied to see he was now alone and there were no idiot Captain's or annoying brothers in sight.

Huffing, he continued his journey, looking along the streets for an inn he could wash up in. Back home in Belmont Feli and himself didn't actually own a shower –far too much effort for Lovino to even bother – but it had been a nice treat to use the one at the inn.

All the same, they had a pleasant enough bathroom and washing tub – not like the pirate ship. There was a simple collection of barrels full of water the crew was expected to share – except for Antonio who had one for himself in his room. Lovino couldn't say he was all that comfortable with the arrangement of being stripped naked around other men he didn't even know and hence had avoided going there until it was more or less completely empty. Not this was much of a problem. Pirates seemed dead set against bathing unless they worked up quite a stink.

Frowning Lovino nearly walked right past a comfy looking inn he was so distracted. Muttering he backed up again and stared grumpily at the wooden structure. It wasn't an outstanding establishment, to be sure, but it certainly beat some of the more run down places that Lovino had seen on his way there.

Grumbling to himself he made his way forward, focusing solely on the prospect of bathing in solitude and finally feeling _clean_. Such a heavenly feeling. It'd been so long he almost forgot what it felt like to be properly and fully clean. Maybe the sluicing water could wash away the irritation he felt at the countless people who had been annoying him of late. Namely Antonio and his little brother.

So fixated was he that he didn't see the object laying harmless in his path until he tripped over it, stumbling forward and landing on his knees, a tanned hand shooting out to keep his balance on the rough pavers.

"What the hell?" He muttered as he straightened up, wincing as he felt his pants rub against the grazed skins of his knees. Slowly he drew his hand forward and raised his hand for inspection. Immediately his stomach did a backflip when he spotted the red that dyed his normally sun kissed skin.

_Blood. _

It took a moment for his panicking mind to catch up with his actual brain. Frowning deeply Lovino stared at his palm, feeling no pain despite how much of the scarlet liquid coated his skin. That could only mean that this blood wasn't _his_.

Tearing his eyes away from the bloodied appendage Lovino realized that he'd had the misfortune to fall forward into a small puddle of it, the dark red liquid smearing in an ugly hand print from where he'd landed and preceded to pull his hand out and awkwardly spread it.

Feeling nauseous the Italian staggered to his feet and looked back to see what had tripped him, noticing for the first time a buckled boot laying innocently on its side, a place it clearly should not be. Swallowing deeply Lovino approached it, giving the shoe an uncertain nudge with his foot as if it would leap and bite him.

It did no such thing however, and simply continued to lay there, silver buckle covered in what looked like rust but was, in fact, in actuality, blood. Casting a look around Lovino realized that the streets surrounding him had fast emptied of people and the owner of the boot – and the blood – was nowhere in sight.

"Fucking hell…" Lovino cleared his throat and looked back at his hand, frowning disgustedly. Who knew what kind of weird ass diseases were just squirming away on his skin right now? Feeling vaguely grossed out he wiped the blood on his pants for lack of any place better to dispose of it. He'd have to make sure he burned them later – or at the very least tossed them overboard.

Lovino was about to turn and walk away from the incriminating scene – it wasn't _his _problem, was it? – when a soft moan was heard, giving the moody brunet reason to pause and turn, peering uncertainly over his shoulder as if unsure he'd heard the noise or that the sound wasn't anything more than a mutt whining. All he could see were the shabby walls of the surrounding buildings, light shadows being cast as the sun slowly eased its way downwards, dying the sky a pleasant mix of gold and orange.

Ready to conclude he'd imagined it Lovino was about to resume his walking away – into the inn, without a doubt, so he could have that bathing he so desperately _needed _after the unfortunate to fall – when the groan sounded again, followed by a low curse that could most certainly not have been made by a stray dog.

Spying a small ally where the walls of the inn didn't quite reach the neighbouring building Lovino concluded that the annoying moaning must be coming from down there – though he was in loath to check it out. He had better things to do and did he really want to get involved with what was probably a dying street rat?

However, Lovino's feet seemed to making the decision for him, taking him in the direction of the noises. Cursing his own curiosity Lovino reluctantly made his way forward, placing his grimy hand on an equally grimy brick wall as he reached the entrance to the small alcove. An alarmed thrill shot down his spine as he felt the press of wetness on his palm and he pulled his arm back quickly to see that his hand was, once again, given a faint sheen of red. A nervous glance to the side showed that the wall on which he had been leaning had several bloodied handprints on it, slowly trailing forward.

Officially freaked the fuck out, Lovino stuck his hand into his pocket, cleared his throat again and managed to work up enough nerve to take several more steps forward until he clearly could make out a hunched shape in the rapidly fading daylight.

It was a person, Lovino could see now, curled in on themselves next the dustbins at the very end of the ally, whimpering pathetically although the Italian couldn't quite see where they were injured just yet. At least they didn't appear to be sitting in a pool of blood like the one Lovino had the bad luck to land in. He snorted a little at this.

There was an instant reaction to this, the slumped figure stiffened and immediately flicked their head up upon hearing Lovino's dismal snort. The Italian let out a sound of surprise as he caught sight of the rugged and weathered face, a small scraggly and unkempt beard tickling the collar of a sturdy red vest that smelt of – even from where Lovino was standing – blood and salt. A pirate smell, if Lovino had ever learnt to recognize one.

"Who's there?" Came the suspicious and gruff call – and was that a Russian accent? – as the man unsteadily hauled himself to his feet, stumbling slightly and grabbing at the bins for support, sending an almighty clattering sound of metal ringing loudly against the brick walls.

"Err," Lovino stuttered, quickly backing up several paces at the alarming sight, "I saw some blood and a, umm, boot and heard someone down here and I – I was just checking to see if they – I mean you – were alright?"

Posed as a question as it was, Lovino's response did little to quell the fires of accusation burning in the eyes of the man before him. In fact, barely a second after Lovino finished talking the man was taking steps again, quickly despite his awkward movements and, The Italian realized with horror, right towards _him_.

Letting out a small squeak – which was very manly, thank you very much – Lovino stumbled backwards, caught his foot on a loose cobblestone and slipped so he land painfully on his ass giving the man a chance to reach forward and entangle his fingers and reddish brown locks, pulling violently so as Lovino called out in agony.

"Did the Captain send you to finish me off? Did he? TELL ME!" Roared the pirate, heaving so hard on Lovino's hair that instinctive tears prickled at the corner of his eyes as a reflex reaction to the hair pulling.

"I don't even know you!" Lovino shouted reaching up to grasp at the hand in his hand, tugging desperately so as to get the man to release him. He has no such luck, however, as his captor only took the action as one of violence and proceeded to pull the protesting Italian to his feet by his hair, causing both of them to stagger backwards.

Panicking and panting in exertion Lovino lashed out with his foot, feeling pleased as it come in contact with the ankle of the pirate holding him and earning a loud shout as a result. Instantly the pressure on his scalp slackened and he was able to back off, stumbling a bit as he tried to regain his footing and put a safe distance between himself and the crazy individual behind him.

He needn't have worried though, as the pirate was still hopping about clutching at his ankle and howling as if Lovino had dealt him a mortal wound from the mere brush of flesh on flesh. Not that Lovino cared, he was already preparing to dash away and return to the ship – attempts to procure an isolated bathing place be damned. He'd gladly use the barrels on the ship so long as it meant getting away right now!

However, There was no such luck as the pirate was already reaching out to grab Lovino's collar as the frightened teen tried to run, yanking him back again and shouting curses in Russian as the other hand – bloodied from where it had been pressed against his ankle – pressed the sharp edge of a blade in the crook of his neck though the man was apparently to uncoordinated at the current moment to be able to use it skilfully.

Lovino's attempts at clawing the large hands holding him went completely unnoticed despite the fact that Lovino could feel himself raking up layers of skin under his nails. This guy was nuts! He had to get away!

As he flailed his legs wildly in an attempt to find a secure foothold Lovino slipped again – this time in something wet – and nearly slid out the pirates grip as a result. Glancing down he realized it was another smeared puddle of blood and – as his glance slowly angled to the side – he finally realized where all of the liquid had been coming from.

The pirate was missing one of his expensive boots and a sock, his ankle slice painful open just above the heel so every time he moved Lovino saw exposed tendons stretching desperately in an attempt to hold itself together, the white surface of bone peeking shyly out from the scarlet flesh.

Sickened, repulsed and still panicking Lovino finally managed to fling the pirates arms off of him and scrambled away, skidding in the blood as he ran for the entrance of the alley in full tilt, only to slam into something that was both soft and immovable.

"Lovi?" Came the surprised question and the equally surprised Italian looked up into a familiar face he'd never been more glad to see. Clutching at Antonio's shirt he flinched as the loud foreign curses echoed loudly and he could hear the pirate stumbling about blindly as he slammed into one wall and then another.

Antonio's expression darkened immediately and he quickly pushed Lovino out of the way and behind him, another hand belonging to Francis's curling protectively over Lovino's shoulder and pulling him out of harm's way to stand with himself and Gilbert as the Spaniard moved towards the lunging lunatic.

Stepping forward in one rippling movement of his Captain's coat Antonio reached out to snag the waving hand that so tightly clutched a stained blade before raising his knee and slamming it into the Russian's gut. All this was done in no more than a few short seconds and with such impressively smooth movements that Lovino found himself wondering how he had been so weak as to be caught by the guy.

Foul smelling breath came gusting out from chapped lips as the pirate slumped weakly against the Captain, knife falling to clank harmlessly to the ground. "Do you know who I am?" the man wheezed desperately, although he kept a tight hold on Antonio's shoulders to prevent himself falling to the ground. "I'm part of Ivan Braginski's crew! If you hurt me my Captain won't be happy! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?"

"Crazy son of a bitch," Gilbert muttered from beside Lovino and the Italian made a small noise in the back of his throat. It looked like the two of them finally agreed on something.

"Oh?" Asked Antonio in a soft – but very scary – voice that sent small shivers down Lovino's spine. "Judging from your wounds I'd say you 'Captain' was the one to do this to you…"

There was no response save meek Russian curses muttered into the handsome cloth of Antonio's coat as the man slumped, losing all momentum and effectively passing out. Antonio moved one arm, shifting the weight of the pirate so he hung more comfortably over his shoulder before he turned and slowly returned to his crew.

Immediately he dumped the body on Gilbert who staggered a bit under the sudden weight, cussing in his own native language. "Take him back to the ship," Antonio ordered, "He said he's part of Braginski's crew. We need him. He'll be useful."

Nobody argued with Antonio when he was in Captain Mode, and Gilbert easily complied, Francis following after him to leave Lovino for the Spaniard to fuss over.

Slipping out of Captain Mode as easily as he'd slipped into it, Antonio dropped to his knees before the small Italian, cupping Lovino's face in his hands his brushed his thumbs along blood soaked cheeks he asked urgently, "Are you hurt? You're covered in blood."

Lovino numbly shook his head. "It's not mine. It's the other guys."

Antonio's gem like eyes were darkened in anger and concern as he pushed clumping strands of hair from Lovino's face and scrubbed at a particular vivid splotch of red on his cheek before noticing a faint trail of blood seeping down his neck from a cut that was a result from the pressing of the blade against his throat earlier.

Instantly Antonio reached for it, expression unreadable but Lovino batted his hands away angrily and snapped, "For fuck sake, stop with the touching! I'm fine!"

Lovino's breath caught in his throat as a dark unrecognizable flicker swept through Antonio's eyes taking away the usual good humour that was a permanent fixture. For a moment the Italian was afraid. However, the moment passed and Antonio swiftly got to his feet again taking Lovino's hand in his own and starting back towards port.

"Come," he said although it was more like an order, "We're heading back to the ship."

Lovino complied although it didn't feel like he had much of a choice and the pair swept quickly through the streets in order to return to the boat, hand in hand simply because Lovino didn't have the courage to pull away.


	5. Progress is a step at a time

**Chapter five – Progress is a step at a time**

_'Progress lies not in enhancing what is, but in advancing toward what will be'__  
><em>**_– Khalil Gibran_****  
><strong> 

The walk back to the ship was quiet and the air muffling with tension. Lovino had never been so glad to see the familiar shape of the boat looming before him in all his life.

They attracted a lot of stares – Lovino covered in blood as he was –but Antonio payed them no attention, merely tightening his grip on Lovino's sweat slickened palm and pulling him quicker, giving a gentle push when they reached the dock. The small Italian could feel Antonio's eye fixed firmly on him as he crossed the plank back onto the ship, preparing to catch him should he fall, no doubt.

But he didn't fall and made the short trip on board with no problem but had only a second or two to gain his balance before Antonio was back, taking his hand again and tugging him quickly away from the rapidly converging pirates, batting away their questions with a brand of impatience he didn't normally possess.

The feeling of anxiety was gnawing in Lovino's gut. Antonio was normally so talkative and it was unnerving to see him suddenly so silent and sombre, acting like… well, a _real _pirate Captain.

Unnerving. Yeah. That was definitely the word for it.

Swallowing a lump in his throat Lovino continued to trail after Antonio in the direction of the others cabin, wanting to fix his eyes to the ground and avoid the stares of the rest of the crew but instead holding his head high and glaring challenging at everyone who stared at his blood splattered face, as was his nature.

However, the curious expressions quickly disappeared as Antonio pulled Lovino inside his cabin, shutting the door quickly, reaching over to shut the curtains and give them some privacy, bathing the two of them in darkness as a result. Lovino stood dumbly by the door, listening to the scrabbling sounds of Antonio slamming shut a drawer following by the nerve grating noise of a match striking and a moment later the blackness receded as the Spaniard calmly lit several candles spaced out across the room.

The heavy atmosphere in the room made it challenging for Lovino to lift his gaze from the floor and meet Antonio's eyes, but he did anyway, not wishing to appear weak or cause undue concern. Oddly serious green eyes met Lovino's own hazel and he fought the difficult urge to look away, not at all appreciating the piercing look.

Clearing his throat the sulky Italian stubbornly folded his arms and furrowed his brow, preparing to open his mouth and snap angrily – as he does – at Antonio only to be cut off when something brushed gently against his shoulder and startled him into raising his hands to catch it before the cloth tumbled down to the floor.

It was a set of clothes, simple and in all likelihood, far too large for him. Lovino raised an uncertain eyebrow at the pirate Captain.

"Wash yourself and get dressed," Antonio instructed, sinking down onto his bed and staring with an unreadable expression at his young friend, nodding towards the wash barrel in the corner of his room without once taking his eyes away.

Lovino scowled and muttered, "I planned to," under his breath before turning around and making his way over to the lukewarm water with his new buddle of garments, feeling oddly resentful that Antonio had felt it right to tell him what to do.

Still surly, he shrugged off his more-or-less destroyed vest before stripping off his thin cotton shirt and tossing it to the ground. Instantly, he felt a prickling down his spine and Lovino hesitated. Antonio was still watching him, he was sure, and a strange wave of heat assaulted his cheeks at the thought.

He was tempted – very much so – to turn around and snap angrily at him for privacy. Instead he simply gritted his teeth together and said, "Do you mind?"

"No," Antonio replied and Lovino felt like the bastard was just a bit too insensitive. Forcing down the rapidly expanding blush Lovino irritably snatched the wash cloth up and dunked it in the water, relishing the feel of the sluicing liquid as he scrubbed the blood from his hands before raising the scratchy material to run it over his face.

Trying his very hardest to ignore the gaze he knew was fixed on him, Lovino continued to wash away the light dusting of rapidly-hardening crimson that was sticking to his skin, letting out a sigh of relief when he _finally _felt clean. Still keeping his back firmly turned and ignoring the feeling of heat in his spine, the young Italian reached for the fresh set of clothes.

As he had guessed the new shirt fell shortly above his knees and was almost slipping of his shoulder due to the looseness around the neck area. Scowling, Lovino tried his best to tug it into a more fitting position but failed. He waited, convinced that at any moment Antonio would let out a chuckle and begin to tease him.

However, no such laugh came and Lovino turned to see that the pirate Captain was still caught up in whatever serious mood had him in its grips. Unnerving was beginning to feel like an understatement; he'd never seen Antonio so sombre before.

One half of Lovino wanted to snap at the man for his out of character and worrisome behaviour, but another, much larger, part of him thought that perhaps he should just stay quiet and see what happened. It was almost scary – _almost_, but not quite, because Lovino was a man, damn it, and he didn't get scared easy – to see Antonio without his usual infuriating grin across his equally infuriating face.

Lovino settled for a compromise between the two conflicting sides by clearing his throat loudly and sending the pirate Captain an annoyed glare before saying in as even of a voice as he could manage and with a total lack of cuss words, "What's your problem?"

The silence between them remained unbroken for another solid minute before Antonio spoke in what was a surprisingly low voice, "You're hurt."

Lovino's scowl deepened. Not to the best of his god damn knowledge, and _fuck, _he was pretty sure he'd notice if he were injured – it was one of those things that was kind of hard to miss.

As if sensing his confusion there was the sound of a creaking bed as Antonio got to his feet and – in a movement that Lovino nearly missed – crossed the room quickly towards him, resting on hand on the small Italian's shoulder and using the other to jerk the shirt off the skinny collarbone it was resting on an eliciting a sharp cry of protest from his surprised companion.

However, before Lovino could react he felt a sharp twinge from the place Antonio's finger was lightly resting on and he glanced down to see the small cut he'd obtained earlier from the press of the Russian's blade against his neck. He had to glance back up in disbelief. "This is what you're fucking talking about? It's nothing!"

Antonio glanced down and their eyes met. "It's not nothing. You're hurt."

"_Barely_! Fucking hell, I couldn't even feel it until you pointed it out!" Lovino huffed irritably. He'd spent much of his life traversing Italy's street with his hands in pockets – often not his own – so he was used to injuries far worse than a single slice upon his olive skin. Although, now that Antonio had had the grace to point it out, it _did _throb a little bit. He blamed the fucking bastard for that.

"Lovi…"

"What?" Lovino snapped, once again meeting the Spaniard's gaze. The pair of them stood like that for a moment, a single emotion that Lovino could not place washing over him and keeping his eyes locked with Antonio's glorious green ones. For some completely incomprehensible and interminably _stupid _reason, he felt like if he looked away this charged moment would shatter and be replaced with something ugly.

_You're right. That is stupid. _

Gritting his teeth Lovino forced himself to look down at his feet and break off the tension filled exchange, struggling to keep his breathing even. It seemed more like he'd run a marathon than simply stood silently, gaze locked with another.

Lovino allowed his eyelids to slip closed while he steadily regained complete control of his senses and reminded himself that Antonio was slightly off at the moment and it probably wouldn't be to great of an idea to start swearing his head off at him.

This thought had not long crossed his mind when the hand resting on his shoulder tightened slightly, causing Lovino open his eyes just in time to catch a glimpse of ruffled brown hair and jangling golden earrings before something soft, and moist and _electrifying _pressed against his throat, Antonio's lips resting lightly against his rapidly heating skin.

Lovino's mind temporarily short circuited.

It was soft, tender almost, but at the same time shivers wracked through the frozen Italian and travelled down his spine, echoing through to his skin and causing all the little hairs on his body to stand on end – though not in displeasure as he might attempt to claim.

_That bastard was kissing his neck! _

It took Lovino a few second to finally summon up the presence of mind to remember he was supposed to angrily swat the man away when he so much as _touched_ him, let alone placed a _kiss_ upon his skin, but by then Antonio had already pulled back, stepping into the shadows cast by the flickering candles.

For a moment Lovino simply gaped at him, one hand pressed lightly on the spot he'd only moments before kissed and Antonio met his gaze easily and seriously, looking completely unperturbed – or guilty that damn bastard – by what he'd just done. The seriousness, however, was shattered when his usual large grin spread out across his lips, its sudden reappearance taking Lovino off guard.

"You – You…" He stammered pitifully.

Antonio grinned wider. "A kiss to make it better!" He said and reached out to trail one of his fingers along the cut – Lovino realized with a thrill that had been wear Antonio's lips had been placed – before expertly stepping back just as the feisty Italian grew steadily redder and redder until he resembled a tomato.

"Mi tomatoe~!" Antonio chuckled and quickly backed out of the cabin as Lovino began shouting, shutting the door and ducking away before something could be thrown at him and leaving the startled brunette to stare daggers at the door, his hand still resting on his neck where the lingering heat from the press of Antonio's lips still remained.

His own lips curled into a grimace.

Shit.

…

He could still feel the kiss.

He scowled openly at the door and considered charging out to give Antonio his comeuppance but, before he could, the door banged open again and Lovino found himself thrown backwards by an unstoppable force.

"_Fratello_,"Feliciano wailed into his neck as he clung tightly to his elder brother, "I heard what had happened! Are you alright? Are you hurt? Ahh, Lovi I'm so sorry!"

Wincing Lovino allowed his head to _thunk_ back against the bed Feliciano had all but thrown him back against. At least now he had established that it wasn't Antonio returning. No, instead it was his idiot brother who had been ignoring him for so long...

"Get the fuck of me Feli, I'm fine," Lovino snapped and gave his brothers shoulder a definite shove. Feliciano sniffed but allowed himself to sit up, if only a little bit, and look at his brother with big, watery eyes. He looked utterly miserable. One would think it was _him _instead of Lovino that had just been subjected to a terrifying run-in with a crazy Russian.

"Fratello," Feliciano sniffled as he dabbed at eyes with the corner of his sleeve, "I was so worried when Ludwig said you'd returned to the ship covered in blood –" Lovino scowled. Of course precious Ludwig would come up. "– and no one was sure what happened and Antonio hasn't told anyone anything yeeeet!"

The last word was dragged out as the younger of the two broke down into wails again, burying his face in Lovino's neck and hiccupping away as he tried – and failed – to calm down.

Lovino sighed and rolled his eyes, placing one hand on his brothers back and tried to wait patiently for the sobs to pass so as to have a reasonable and calm – as reasonable and calm as it ever got when the two of them were involved – conversation with Feli.

He was still bitter about the way he'd been all but traded off for that potato sucking fucktard, but _Christ, _it was hard to be mad at his pathetic brother when he was snivelling into his shirt like this. Lovino almost resented Feliciano's ability to burst into tears at the slightest provocation. It made it all too easy for the younger twin to worm his way out of being held accountable for his actions; whether they be deliberate or not.

"Fucking hell Feli," Lovino muttered, "Get a hold of yourself. Am I dead?"

"No," he sniffed.

"Am I dying?"

"I…" Feliciano looked him up and down. "No?"

"That's right. I'm not even fucking hurt so stop you irritating crying!" Lovino snapped and, once again, pulled his brother off him. Feliciano sat up with minimal fussing. "Jesus Christ. Stop acting like a whiny brat."

"I was worried about you Fratello," Feliciano murmured, "you've been acting really off lately as well…"

This statement stirred the coals of anger within the feisty Italian and he quickly found his thin grasp on patience slipping as his anger towards his brother was renewed. "Off?" He repeated. "_I've _been acting _off_?"

Feliciano whimpered and withdrew slightly. "Y-you have! You've been acting strange!"

Lovino growled under his breath and pulled himself up so he was now standing rather than sprawled out over the bed. "I haven't been acting strange," he growled, "_I _haven't been doing anything! You're the one who's been avoiding me!"

"I wasn't –" Feliciano begun to protest weakly but Lovino cut over him, in no mood to be talked back to you.

"Oh yes you have! Ever since you met that damn potato-eater you've been avoiding me! So is that it? The second _Ludwig_," Here he sneered the name with a certain amount of disdain, "Shows up you're gonna replace me?

"No no no," Feliciano said hurriedly looking horrified, "No I wasn't avoiding you! I was just – I _really_ like Ludwig and you were with Antonio and I didn't want to disturb you!"

"With Antonio?" Lovino repeated incredulously. "Didn't want to disturb me?"

Feliciano nodded meekly. "I – I didn't want you to worry about either. I mean, you've always been looking after me and I know you weren't happy when we wound up on this ship and it was my fault and I really just wanted to show you that I could do things on my own and… and…"

Feliciano trailed off miserably and scrubbed at his face in what appeared to be a vain attempt to dry his eyes before peering up at him with a watery gaze and a pout to his lips. Lovino felt his eyebrow twitch with the effort of remaining angry.

"I… Just didn't want you to worry Lovi…"

The elder Italian forced himself to take in a deep, calming breath and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. It wouldn't do to start yelling at Feliciano. The kid was an idiot and, in all likelihood, had probably not noticed the way it seemed as though he was avoiding his brother.

But this didn't change the burning feeling of resentment – and yes, maybe he was just a _little _hurt – that being all but abandoned by the only family he had left had resulted in. It had felt like the minute somebody better, stronger and more able to protect him had come along Feliciano had _jumped _on the opportunity even though – deep down – Lovino was aware that wasn't the case.

Feliciano has always been hypersensitive to the wants and needs of others. Anything and everything he did, he did it for someone else. The youngest of the pair must have felt as if he was imposing his own ineptness when it came to defending himself upon his more able brother and acted accordingly – wrong though he was.

Really, it was, in the best of time, hard to remain mad at Feli.

Taking in another calming breath Lovino looked up to meet his brothers visibly upset gaze.

Fuck it. The kid was like a kicked puppy.

In one harshly quick move Lovino ruffled his brother's hair in a rare gesture of affection before shifting on his feet and cracking his back – he was pretty sure something in it had popped when Feliciano jumped on him.

"Listen Feli, you don't need to go relying on the Potato Bastard for everything. I'm your older brother and that means it's _my _job to protect you. So don't go replacing me with some … _German_," Lovino spat the word as if it were poison, "You hear me?"

Feliciano dabbed at the corner of his eyes one last time with his sleeve before looking up and offering his brother one of those bright smiles only he seemed to possess. "If you say so Frattelo," Then he paused, frowned and said, "Vee, but Ludwig really is much bigger than you, you know? It's easier for him to –"

"Out."

"Eh! But Frattelo!"

"Out," Lovino repeated giving his younger brother a shove towards the door. Figures he tries to be empathetic for once in his life and all he cops is more talk of that bastard Potato Eater. It was like Feliciano hadn't registered the last few minutes of in-depth talking at all.

"Vee, I'm sorry Lovi! I didn't mean to offend you!"

"You didn't offend me," Lovino snapped back as he continued his insistent shoving in the vague direction of the door, "I just want you to fuck off so I can go sleep. I'm tired and I just got attacked by some random Russian. I just want to go to bed."

"Oh," Feliciano said with such a perfect naivety before asking, just as the door to the cabin swung open and perfectly innocent as if he didn't know what he was implying, "You're going to be sleeping with Antonio then?"

Instant reaction.

Blood blossomed brilliantly across Lovino's face as he began spluttering incoherently, trying desperately to string a complete sentence together and, in his attempts, momentarily forgetting that the door had swung open to admit a new guest to the room.

"Of course he is," Antonio said cheerfully, slinging an arm around a surprised Lovino's neck and smiling widely at Feliciano, "There's no way I'd let him sleep below deck after what happened today. He needs some time to recover."

"Wha – Bastard – I never –"

"Alright! I'll go see Ludwig then~! Ciao Frattelo, Captain!"

Just like that the oblivious idiot slipped out of the cabin, allowing the door to swing shut and leaving Antonio and Lovino completely alone in it again. Immediately the disagreeable Italian attempted to shrug himself free from his companion's grip, face still beet red.

"Ahh! _Mi Tomatoe_!" Antonio chuckled, poking lightly at one flaming red cheek only to be angrily swatted away.

"Are you a fucking moron? There's no way I'm sleeping in the same fucking bed, let alone room, as a creepy pervert as you!" Lovino spat out angrily, pressing one hand firmly to his throat where he could still feel the slight tingling from the hot press of Spanish lips upon his skin.

Antonio let out an airy chuckle, apparently not in the least concerned by Lovino's hostility. "It's alright. I won't be sleeping in here tonight anyway."

This gave the slender brunette reason to pause, looking suspiciously up at the Captain. "Why not?"

Antonio gave a kind of vague shrug. "I have things to take care of," He answered dismissively but there was an odd spark in his eye that urged Lovino to allow the subject to drop. However, before he could decide one way or another, Antonio returned deftly back to the topic at hand. "You'll have the cabin and the bed all to yourself!"

Lovino sneered. "I'm not going to sleep in your bed, let alone your cabin. I'm not a fucking invalid."

"Lovi," Antonio's voice had dropped back down to a dangerous pitch and the hand resting on the Italian's shoulder gave a light squeeze, "You're not leaving this cabin. Either you stay willingly or I lock the door."

A shiver coursed unchecked down Lovino's spine as he stared up into a pair of serious emerald eyes. It was on the tip of tongue to snap back at Antonio's show of attitude but, instead, he did nothing but nod weakly. A coward to the core, it did him no favours to argue a lost argument.

Instantly the good cheer returned to Antonio's expression and he dropped the hand off of Lovino's skin after maintain contact for only a few more second – although those seconds were still far longer than necessary in Lovino's book.

"Alright! Well, I'm off to do some things! Get some rest; you need it! And don't go leaving the room!"

The last part of the sentence carried more of the weight of _you can't go leaving the cabin _or _you won't go leaving the cabin_. Lovino cottoned on quick enough. _That bastard, _he thought viciously, _he's going to lock the cabin anyway! I had no choice from the beginning! _

Before the rage filled Italian could snap, Antonio quickly ruffled his hair and stepped hurriedly away, shoes clacking loudly on the floor as he ducked out the door, allowing it to swing shut unassisted behind him. Lovino stood in silence for a moment and, sure enough, after a second of listening he heard the tell-tale clicking of a lock engaging.

Lovino was left feeling incredibly undignified at the distrustful and possessive treatment he was receiving. As soon as Antonio returned there would be things thrown, mark his words.

Grumbling under his breath Lovino surveyed the room, paying more attention to detail now that there were no urgent matters to keep him dashing about frantically. No, it was just him and the cabin and they might as well get acquainted.

It was sparsely decorated, the bed being the most obvious of the small collection of furniture, the other more notable occupant being a small table with a chair wedged into the corner, a dripping candle welding several aging maps to the wood through hardening wax. Lovino sniggered a little at this and hoped to dear god those maps were important.

With nothing else to do, he pulled up a chair at the table and stared idly around himself for a few minutes before resting his weary head in his arms.

Truth be told, he was exhausted. The day had taken a lot out of him and he was still feeling vaguely nauseas from the scene in the alley earlier. It was hardly the first time Lovino had been in a life threatening situation – just look at how he'd wound up aboard the ship – but the unpleasant thrill of risk wasn't something that faded away with time.

Putting aside the exploits with the crazy Russian, the odd show from Antonio before still had Lovino feeling rather unsettled. Surely the man knew that had he not been caught so completely off guard, Lovino would have punched his brains out? The Italian steadfastly ignored the section of his brain that pointed out tauntingly that the smooth brush of lips against his skin had felt electrifying rather than disgusting as it rightfully should have coming from that Spanish Bastard.

There was too much thinking he was trying to accomplish at once, and he was far too tired to sort through it all now. Rather, the deeper he tried to delve into thought the more sluggish he became until Lovino could hardly tell one thing from another and he acknowledged, rather reluctantly, that he was falling asleep.

Fluttering his eyelids open for a split moment in order to fumble blindly to extinguish the candle wick – he looked forward to Antonio returning only to be forced to stumble blindly in the dark – the sleepy brunette caught sight of the comfortable looking bed.

He was admittedly tempted for a minute to get up and spread out on its cosy surface but a far larger part of him stubbornly refused to willingly climb back into the Tomato Bastard's bed. The chair was just as comfortable. He didn't need the goose-feather pillows, or the soft sheets or the warm feel of the covers pressing down on his weary skin….

At some point during his spiel he must have indeed fallen asleep, for before he knew it he was engaged in a fierce battle with a giant goose with the softest of feathers that, somehow, rendered his sword useless. It didn't matter, however, for if Lovino didn't pick the pockets of the Goose's waistcoat he and Feli would be for ever doomed to a life of wearing frilly, green maid dresses.

Somewhere, far off in a place that seemed disconnected from his dream, Lovino thought he heard screaming. Pausing in his battle, he tilted his head puzzled but dismissed it as unimportant and resumed the fierce fight.

He was losing spectacularly; his sword was just no match for the impenetrable feathers that shielded the goose from harm.

It took a while, but eventually the utter absurdity of the fantasy coupled with the crippling exhaustion allowed the dream to trail off into blackness, lulling Lovino into a state commonly referred to as 'dead-to-the-world'.

However, in the moment before the giant goose faded into oblivion, Lovino could have sworn the rustling of its feathers sounded a good deal like the swishing of a familiar coat and the giant flap of its wing it used in order to send him spiralling off his feet was accompanied by a very realistic feeling of weightlessness…

Several hours later when Lovino awoke briefly – well past midnight but well before dawn – he sluggishly realised that he was no longer at the table on which he'd fallen asleep. Rather, those goose-feathered pillows that had inspired such a crazy dream were pressing comfortably up against the back of his skull.

Confused and still half asleep, the young Italian forced himself to roll over until he was able to squint vaguely off to the side, attempting to make out an unrecognizable shape that the rays of moonlight that seeped in through the window were cast over.

After a second or so he realised that it was, in fact, Antonio. He was curled up beside the bed with nothing but his hat for a pillow and his coat for a blanket. If he were slightly more aware, Lovino may have blinked in surprise at this rare show of respect to his personal space, but, as it was he was barely conscious at all.

After a moment of contemplation he wiggled free of one of the weighty blankets and cast it in the general direction of the Captain. Whether it landed snuggly upon him or not, Lovino didn't see, for almost immediately following his throw he'd slipped back into sleep, not to wake again until late in the morning.

If he'd perhaps stayed up even just a moment longer, he may have caught the slight twitch of Antonio's mouth as he gently pulled the blanket up and over him, turning so as to gaze lightly at the sleeping boy in his bed with an expression that was almost tender.

"_Buenas noches, Lovi…" _

_._

_._

_._

**A/N: Long wait is long. Long chapter is long. Long hours spent editing at 2am is long. **

**Sorry for any errors. **

**COMING NEXT TIME – ACTUAL PLOT (This time it's not a lie) **


	6. The Trove

**Chapter six – The Trove**

'_Don't be afraid to give up the good to go for the great.'__  
><em>_**– John D. Rockefeller **__  
><em>

Lovino found that he didn't like being babied.

He was far from used to it, living the life he'd had, and he'd come to discover the fussing and the constant watching was far from his taste.

He'd awoken shortly before 11 0'clock to find the room empty, which was strange because he could fuzzily recall something about Antonio returning to the room the night prior, but he'd thought nothing of it and tumbled out of bed, curses on his lips and eyes heavy from a troubled night sleeping.

Frowning, he'd clawed his way to a more appropriate standing position before staggering over to the stand of cool water to splash it on his face in order to wake up. A quick glance to the dusty mirror to his side made Lovino grimace. His skin was pale, dark bags rested under his eyes and a bruise or two stood out sharply from his sickly parlour.

_I look like shit._

Grumbling to himself the small Italian dried his face, tossed on a fresh shirt – he doubted Antonio would mind – and stumbled his way out of the cabin, finding himself pleasantly surprised when the doorhandle gave easily beneath his hand.

It seemed he was now free to go and prowl the deck at his leisure.

Allowing the door to slam loudly shut behind him, Lovino trudged forward, attempting to blow his hair from his face and neaten it from its mussed state; both at once. He was not succeeding very well, and it didn't help that he was attempting to finger comb it while dodging a certain curl that spiralled away from his head.

"Buongiorno, Fratello!" A cheery voice called, Lovino whipped his head around to see his frustratingly awake brother bouncing towards him with an enormous grin on his face.

"Feliciano…"

"Vee, did you sleep well last night? Antonio's bed looks comfortable, but that's alright, because I can sleep in Ludwig's ~ I didn't sleep well though! There was this screaming all night long but Ludwig kept telling me not to listen to it even though it was really really scary! He let me cuddle up with him so I wasn't so scared! Ludwig's really good at looking after people!"

Lovino winced at the sudden onslaught of rambling, holding one hand in the area in a gesture for Feli to cease his talking while pressing the other to his temple where he could feel the faint beginnings of a headache starting. "Fratello, shut up," finally, some of what Feli had just said registered and Lovino's expression darkened, "And what was that about the Potato Bastard?"

Feliciano seemed to realize he was treading dangerously close to having Ludwig executed by his over protective elder brother and hastily turned the topic back to the screeching that he'd apparently heard the previous night.

"Did you not hear the screaming, Lovi? Ah, maybe you slept through it? You seemed really out if last night…"

Lovino frowned and gave up his attempts of fixing his hair, trying to strain his mind back to the previous night. Now that Feliciano mentioned it, he did recall something making an ungodly amount of noise, enough so, in fact, to pierce through his dreams and sleep addled stupor.

"I don't know," he said slowly, "I think I might have heard something, but I don't really know what the fuck it was."

"Don't swear, Frattelo."

Ignoring his brother's gentle admonishment, Lovino leant back against the edge of the ship, listening to the soothing sound of the waves below him as he pondered the events from the night prior. By the time he'd been left alone, locked in the cabin, he'd been far too tired to pay much attention to anything. He hazily recalled Antonio returning to the room at some point, but that may have very well been a dream just as much as reality given the way Lovino's mind functioned when he was tired…

An irritated sigh escaped his lips and he roughly scratched at his head before deciding it was far too early in the morning to be thinking about anything that required a sizable amount of brain power to puzzle out. Straightening up he announced his intention to get some breakfast and strode off in the general vicinity of the kitchens. He had no idea if the rest of the crew had eaten yet, but Lovino was famished; if the pain in his stomach was anything to go by. He hadn't eaten anything since at least noon the previous day and he was starting to feel the effects of that. His brother quickly scampered after him, reluctant to let him out of sight.

"Are you feeling better now, Lovi? You weren't doing so good last night. Should you be eating at the moment?"

Lovino's constant scowl further darkened at the fussing. "I'm fine now, Feli. And I'm hungry so yes, I will fucking eat."

"Ah, I didn't mean anything by it! Don't get mad!"

"I'm not mad," Lovino answered shortly. No more so than usual, anyway.

Feliciano shot him one look from beneath his auburn hair but refrained from making another comment, standing meekly to the side while Lovino harassed the sour tempered cook in the kitchen into giving him an apple and a bowl of what looked to be unappetizing sludge. Frowning deeply he sent the scraggily pirate an annoyed look and received a definitive show towards the door in response. "You want good food," he grunted, "you look for it elsewhere."

Cursing, Lovino kicked at the door as it slammed shut behind him, balancing his forlorn meal in his hands as he said in fluent Italian _exactly _what the cook's mother was best at preforming in seedy foreign brothels, Feliciano gasping in horror at his untamed language and hitting him weakly on the arm.

"Fuck Feli," Lovino spat, "Don't have to go around hitting me."

"Then don't talk like that! You're always telling me not to!"

Lovino's scowl further deepened and he shoved past his whining brat of a brother, finding a nice piece of clean deck cast in the shade from one of the cabins, and sat down to eats his brunch, poking at the miserable excuse for porridge that sloshed about unappetizingly in the chipped dish.

His mind, however, was elsewhere as he began shoveling down the mush. Understandably, he was still a little sidetracked from the nerve wracking run in with the pirate the previous day. Straining his mind, he struggled to recall whom exactly the pirate had claimed to work for. It wasn't exactly hard – given the way the crazed Russian had been screaming it – and after a moment of plodding around in mental circles, Lovino was able to dredge up a name.

_Ivan. _

That was it, he was sure. Ivan… Ivan something… Lovino shoved his now empty bowl aside and bit viciously in to the apple, tearing the white flesh away from the core, red skin crunching loudly beneath his teeth. He was certain he'd heard that name mentioned before. Ivan… Ivan… However, the connotation behind the name continued to elude him, and no matter how he struggled to recall where he'd heard it uttered in the past, he was unable to reach a conclusion.

"Lovi?"

The slight Italian looked up sharply, sighing when he saw it was none other than Antonio hovering over him, expression concerned and anxious, bags under his eyes as if he'd spent the night particularly sleepless.

"What do you want?" Lovino said bluntly, returning his attention to his apple, spinning it lightly in his hand as he continued to munch on the ripened fruit. He wasn't in the mood for any of the Spaniards eccentricities at the moment; such was his temperament.

Either not sensing his displeasure – likely, given the Bastard's inability to read the atmosphere – or just brushing it away, Antonio took a seat next to him, brown hair messy and usual Captain's hat absent. Lovino stole a sideways glance at him. He couldn't claim to be fond of the thoughtful, worried and overall strained expression that was lurking just beyond a pair of falsely cheerful green eyes.

"I just wanted to check if you were feeling better, how's your neck?" Antonio said with a small smile, focusing all of his attention upon the small teenager and receiving a sharp elbow in the guts for it.

"I'm fine," Lovino snapped, "Just like I was fine last night. Now stop asking me and tell me why it looks like someone kicked your dog."

Antonio sent him a puzzled look. "I don't have a dog, silly Lovi."

_Oh my god, he's an idiot. _

Rolling his eyes Lovino took one last bite off his apple before pushing himself abruptly to his feet and pitching the core heavily over the side of the ship, standing just a little too far away to be able to watch as it spiraled downwards to be swallowed by sea foam and dragged down into the oceanic depths.

"What I meant," He grumbled, "Is what's got you looking so fucking thoughtful? It's not a good look on you, you know that bastard? Kind of looks like your head's gonna explode."

Instead of being dismayed at the insult, the Captain's curious disposition brightened and he flashed a blinding – truly blinding, much more exposure like this and Lovino may have to invest in a blindfold – smile and chirpily proclaimed, "Lovi's worried about me! Ah, that makes me happy~!"

"What?" Lovino stuttered, going a little red. "I'm not worried about you fuck face! I was just saying it's god damn annoying, got it? Geez, don't go fucking drawing your own shitty conclusions!"

Antonio continued to beam however as he got to his feet and dusted his back of any dust that may have the nerve to cling to his coat. "Thank you for your worry, Lovi. There's nothing wrong, though. I was just thinking."

Gritting his teeth, Lovino managed to refrain from further insisting his disinterest and ask, "About what?"

Immediately the cheer that Lovino's supposed concern had placed back into Antonio's aura vanished as the Captain returned to his previous thoughtfulness. "It's nothing you need to worry about. I just need to talk with Francis and Gilbert about some things…"

"Are you finally going to toss them overboard?" Lovino asked eagerly. Antonio laughed at this – Lovino _hadn't _been joking, but this seemed to slide past him – and playfully rustled his hair, much to Lovino's displeasure.

"Silly Lovi, they're my best friends. I wouldn't toss them overboard."

"Che. Your mistake then," grunted Lovino sourly – he hadn't really thought that would be the case, but there was always hope – and batted Antonio's hand away from him, frowning as the finger lingered in the bronze tangles for a moment.

An odd expression crossed over Antonio's face for a second, and Lovino found himself unable to place the strange look in his eyes, only relate it to the times prior where the Spaniard had acted in a surprising manner. Instantly he stiffened, preparing himself for whatever strange action Antonio would indulge in.

Instead, he merely said, "You have really soft hair Lovi…"

Blinking Lovino looked up into his eyes, startled at the genuine surprise evident in the Captain's eyes as he withdrew his hand, glancing once more down at the unnerved Italian before offering him a smile and turning to retreat down the deck.

Lovino watched him go with a feeling of uneasiness, his cheeks perhaps a little more red than he would have liked and a feeling of confusion in the pit of his stomach.

_What the fuck? _

oOoOo_oOo_oOoOo

As the day progressed, Lovino found the area around him completely void of Antonio. Not only that, but he'd been stunned to learn he was not required to help out around the ship. When he'd reluctantly turned up to assist some of the other pirates with the chores, he'd been turned away. Captain's orders, apparently.

While normally being given a free pass on work would have filled him with joy, Lovino instead found himself miffed. He wasn't a baby for Christ sakes, and a little run in with some creep in an alley wasn't a big enough deal to be treated as if he was dying. Indeed, Lovino wasn't at all happy with the gentle handling that he'd been dealt since the previous evening, and he was looking forward to finding Antonio so as to rip into him about this new treatment. Captain or not, he had no right to treat Lovino like he was inept.

"Where's Antonio," Lovino demanded of one of the few pirate's he was on moderate terms with. Sam looked up from the crate he was sorting through, eyebrows meeting roughly over the bridge of his nose as he glared at the Italian. Admittedly, he hadn't been pleased when he'd been told that he was expected to work alone today and he may have been taking a bit of that resentment out on Lovino, even though it wasn't technically _his _fault.

"He's having a meeting," Sam grunted as he returned to sorting through the rope boxed up before him, frowning in displeasure at the unappealing prospect of untangling a hundred odd yards of it without assistance.

Lovino gritted his teeth in annoyance. "Where?" He demanded. "Why? With who?"

His pestering earned him an annoyed glare of his own and Sam huffily answered, "In the steering cabin with Francis and Gilbert. Fucked if I know, about the pirate he hauled in yesterday I think. Now, get! I've got stuff to do!"

Spouting out a few choice words under his breath, Lovino stormed away in the vicinity of the main cabin, unsatisfied with the vague information but curious none the less. The pirate from yesterday? That would be the son of a bitch that had tried to knife him then. Why the fuck would they be having a meeting about him. Fuck, pirate ways made Lovino's head hurt.

Suddenly, an idea occurred to him, unpleasant in nature but strangely fitting none the less and he ground to a halt, eyes wide as he considered this new revelation. What if… Could it be possible?

Distinctly, Lovino recalled the conversation he'd had with his brother only earlier that day about the screaming that had pierced the night. Straining his mind, Lovino was even able to dredge up a memory of it as it had interfered with his sleep the night before. Terrified, pained and carrying a pleading undertone, a faint foreign sound to it as if the screamer's native language was one Lovino was more or less unfamiliar with…

He swallowed deeply. Antonio, he wouldn't have… tortured the man, would he have?

As suddenly as they epiphany about the possible torture had struck, so too did another. This one a good deal more shocking than the first, even though it was more obvious and tame in nature. Something that Lovino should have known without having to suddenly realize it, but it had somehow evaded his knowledge anyway.

_Lovino knew _nothing _about Antonio. _

Sure, he knew that the man was the feared Captain of _The Scarlet Maiden_, he knew that he was annoying and cheerful and a bit of a creep. He knew that he had an annoying obsession with tomatoes and had taken unexpectedly to Lovino after he'd picked his pocket, but beyond that? Nothing. He knew zilch. He didn't know what he was capable of, he didn't know he'd come to be such a revered and feared pirate, he didn't know anything.

Antonio was, to him, a strange, unknown entity.

This was somehow nauseating even as Lovino strove to remind himself that he didn't _need _to know the bastard, that this distant, unreachable gap between them was _fine_, that he really couldn't give two fucks about the man…

Somehow, Lovino still found himself slightly shaken at this realization.

Forcing himself to return to his senses, the brunet took a shaky step forward, then another, more firm this time and with more of his initial annoyance behind it, slowly making his way towards the main cabin on the ship.

Right, so what if he didn't know squat about the man? He was still going to tear into him either way. He could save the depressing thinking for another time.

With as much of his anger renewed as was possible following the sudden realization a moment earlier, Lovino continued his crusade to find and destroy the Captain for treating him like a child who was unable to take care of himself.

Ahead the cabin door was slightly ajar, and Lovino strode towards it with his single minded mission. Just as his hand brushed against the doorknob, however, voices from inside filtered out, indistinguishable at the current moment. Quickly glancing around him to make sure nobody was watching him – the surrounded deck was empty – Lovino took a quick step forward and leaned towards the gap in the door.

Francis, Gilbert and Antonio were gathered around a table on which a map was spread, yellowing around the edges from ages and Lovino garnered that the parchment was stained from wear and tear. Although maps were by no means rare on a pirate ship, Lovino noted that the trio surrounded it were staring at it with wary suspicion, as if the thing was attempting to deceive them.

" – Are you sure this is the real deal? I mean, the guy was probably just trying to say anything to get you to stop. Stealing a map from Braginski is no piece of cake…"

Antonio shook his head as Gilbert trailed off. "He was convinced. Claimed that after overhearing that they were planning on tossing him overboard, he grabbed the map in hope of taking it to Kirkland as a bargaining chip for his live and getting protection from him."

Francis let out a little chuckle at this. "Ahh… Trusting Angleterre would have been a mistake anyway. He has no love for outsiders. He may have taken the map, yes, but not before shooting the man in the back."

"That's what comes from being a double agent," Gilbert snorted, "When you get found out, neither side trusts you anymore. Going against Braginski was a mistake anyway…"

A flickering shadow crossed Gilbert's face at this but neither of his companions in the room commented on it, whether it was because they didn't notice or they found it tactful to avoid mention, Lovino didn't know.

Antonio thumped his hand loudly on the table, causing all listening to jump. "Anyway, that's not the issue. This is the real deal, he wasn't lying. He was far too frightened at that point. This is really the map."

Francis remained sceptical. "Maybe he wasn't lying, but he could still be mistaken. Braginski may have honestly though that this map was real, but that doesn't mean it is. I find it difficult to believe that after all these years; the map has only resurfaced now, in the hands of an uneducated brute, no less."

Gilbert looked like he was in agreement was the Frenchman but before either of them could continue their arguments, Antonio spoke, voice rich with authority. "Are you honestly saying you don't want to pursue this merely because it _could _be false? No, this is too great a chance to pass up. This is _the _treasure we've heard rumours about long before any of us actually took to the ocean. We're going to look into this."

It was silent for a moment, no one opposing the Spaniard when he spoke with such conviction. Finally, Gilbert said, "When Braginski finds out the little traitor he dropped off at a random port after laying open his ankles in his signature mark of cruelty took with him the map, he's going to be furious. He'll do everything to get it back."

"Arthur too," Francis added, "When he learns you have the map, he'll do everything to tear it from your icy cold hands."

"It's going to turn into an all-out war," Gilbert cautioned, "Between all of the three most feared pirates of the sea."

"Once they realize we have the map, they'll stop at nothing. Just as we would if the situation was reversed," Francis commented.

"They wouldn't be pirates otherwise," Antonio remarked wryly as he swiftly rolled the map up with a flick of his wrist. "It's settled then. I'll announce to the crew our intentions and the change in course. You'll find Braginski's man below deck."

Neither Francis nor Gilbert asked exactly what he wanted them to do with him, merely nodding and taking a step back so as to allow the kinks that had snuck into the shoulders after hunching over a single table for so long to straighten out.

Antonio hummed lightly as he tucked the map into his coat, picking up his hat and sitting it lightly atop his head, eyes alight with a new kind of determination that Lovino had yet to see blossom in their emerald depth.

"Right then, as of now _The Scarlet Maiden _is in the battle for _El Tosoro_."


	7. Fool's Gold

**Chapter Seven – Fool's Gold  
><strong>

_'All our dreams can come true, if we have the courage to pursue them.'_  
><strong><br>- _Walt Disney_**

The brilliant blue of the afternoon sky had long since blended seamlessly in the dark hue of evening, the stars pinpricks of light against the black backing as a powerful wind pulled the scarlet sails taunt, allowing the ship to sail quickly along the choppy water.

It was now night and Lovino found himself moodily looking out over the water, disgusted at himself due to his inability to enjoy the silence around him. The rest of the crew was engaging in a feast that he hadn't thought possible on a poorly stocked pirate ship, filling their bellies with barely adequate food and drowning their senses in barely adequate liquor. They had a cause to celebrate, and as pirates they did it in style.

Earlier Antonio had given the crew a spectacular speech, words booming across the deserted water and expression excited beyond control. He'd promised an adventure of grandeur that they hadn't even glimpsed in their wildest of dreams before presenting to his men the map that he had pulled from the hands of a weeping Russian.

Lovino found that as soon as the map was properly glimpsed the excitement around the men tripled, and frantic chatter started up, roars of anticipation, calls of curiosity. Lovino had taken this moment to quietly slip away; uncomfortable at the edge of the deck where every man assembled seemed to know the meaning of the two magical words that their Captain had spoken.

Lovino was no pirate – despite the fact several others were clearly attempting to right this err – and the words 'The Trove' held to him no more mystic than a sack of potatoes. He'd caught the gist of it, understood the conversation he'd overheard earlier, but all the same he felt they were embarking on a fool's errand and as a reasonable, albeit foul-tempered, Italian man, Lovino could find no luster in the adventure set before him.

Sighing grumpily, the irritable brunette pulled a chunk off the heel of bread he'd taken from the banquet and tossed it sourly into the ocean, watching as it vanished from his sight to drop into the clutches of the icy water below. With their journey towards England interrupted, Lovino no longer had the slightest inkling of where the ship was taking him and his goal of grabbing Feli and running was continuing to look less and less likely as time progressed. With the way things were headed, he might be stuck on this fucking pirate ship until he died from scurvy or some other unsavory disease.

Footsteps behind him announced a visitor and Lovino looked up in surprise. With the party in full swing he couldn't possibly imagine who'd have taken the time to step away and enjoy the fresh air outside. Thinking quickly, he made to step into the embrace of the shadows and… _not _hide… Just… Shelter from sight.

However, no sooner had he taken half a step back a voice washed over him in greeting. A disgusting voice with an equally repulsive accent and Lovino suddenly had the urge to dive overboard.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite grumpy little Italian," Francis purred as he approached, a wide smile on his revoltingly French face and the heels of his expensive boots clacking loudly on the board beneath his feet. "Why aren't you over enjoying the feast? I believe there's even a platter of little tomatoes; it _is _hosted by Antonio after all, no?"

Lovino scowled darkly and tightened his grip on the edge of the boat, scampering back a few paces when the Frenchman leant easily against it beside him, pretending not to notice the disgusted look that Lovino was sending him.

"Why aren't _you_?" He shot back. "Shouldn't you be in there groping everyone too drunk to notice?"

Francis placed a hand over his heart and sent him a mock hurt look. "You wound me young Lovino; implying that someone needs to be drunk to enjoy my touch."

Lovino scowled and managed to duck away from a wondering hand that was straying far too close to his own. "If you touch me," he threatened, "I'll push you overboard right now. No one's around to see; hell, even if they were they'd hail me as a fucking hero."

Francis laughed loudly as if he'd just told a brilliant joke. "Ah, _mon ami_. You're so vicious. You'll scare away any potential suitors with that attitude."

"I don't want a fucking suitor," Lovino growled, looking disturbed at the very thought. Francis didn't seem to be paying him any attention, however.

"And I wouldn't touch you anyway. As a good friend of our Captain, it would not do to have him thinking I'm taking what is his. He can get rather violent if the mood possesses him to."

Lovino balked. "His?" He repeated. "What the fuck makes you think I'm _his_?! I don't belong to anybody!"

Francis gave a rather careless shrug. "Think what you will."

If Lovino had looked disturbed before it was nothing compared to the horrified look on his face now. Completely unable to fathom Francis' self-assured words no matter how hard his mind worked to process them. When had Lovino ever given the impression that he was a possession to anyone?

Demonstrating perceptiveness that Lovino had not previous known him to possess, Francis smirked, watching the small Italian from the corner of his eye as he relaxed back against the ship rails, swaying to and fro easily with the ship with a kind of natural grace that Lovino himself had yet to master. The low rolls and dull creaks of the ship only served to make him nauseous and lose his supper more nights than not.

They stood in stilted silence for a moment that, while tinged awkward, wasn't wholly uncomfortable. Lovino shot Francis one more suspicious look before he allowed the tension in his shoulders to ease somewhat, slackening his grip on the rail now that he was more or less convinced the Frenchman wouldn't be giving him cause to dive into the oceanic depths anytime soon.

Far off, the distant roars of the men echoed from below, no more than faint echoes in the slight breeze that skimmed across the ship and tousled Lovino's caramel hair carelessly, tossing it into his face so that it irritated the young man and he had to huff to send several stray strands billowing backwards.

Francis watched him surreptitiously from the corner of his eye, his long fingers tapping out an absent rhythm on the smooth banister beneath his hand. In the rare moment of calm that existed between himself and Lovino, he could almost see what Antonio saw in the child.

He was certainly attractive, all sharp angles and paler skin than was necessarily custom on an Italian. There were distinct differences between Lovino and his twin, a certain adult aura around Lovino that was absent from his younger brother, a dark tint in his eyes and a jaded set to his face; where Feliciano was adorable and innocent, the personification of child-like naiveté, Lovino was more adult elegance in an awkward fashion.

Francis's lips curled up slightly and one perfectly kempt hand rose to stifle a chuckle that bubbled at the back of his throat. Lovino glared at him openly. "There a problem, bastard?"

"No," Francis smirked. "Not a problem in sight."

Without further explanation he turned and vanished back towards the main hub of the ship in a dramatic flourish, leaving Lovino standing lone and solitary by the rocking waves, an irritated set in his brow and a grim turndown to his mouth.

Muttering something about stupid pirates and fucked up Frenchman, Lovino absently flexed one hand in the cool night air before turning back to stare down at the choppy midnight-black water that gently lulled the boat to and fro.

All this talk about belonging to Antonio irritated him. He wasn't some possession to be passed from person to person, he was an individual being with a mind and freedom and _attitude_ damn it. He wasn't _used _to having to think about these things; being wanted had never happened before.

_Was he wanted_?

Lovino licked nervously at chapped lips and furrowed his brow. Wasn't it a little presumptuous to take words tossed carelessly about by men – men who were thieving dishonest pirates – at face value? His loose grip on the boat's railing spasmed slightly and a faint shudder rippled through his frame.

He didn't understand any of this shit. He didn't have any prior experience with crap like this, didn't know if this bullshit was normal or a special brand of insanity unique to pirates; unique to Lovino.

Antonio in all his clingy childish glory had taken a liking to Lovino; but that didn't mean this liking would necessarily last. As soon as he got close enough to see that his brash attitude and cuss-soaked words weren't just an outer attitude to scare off those who begot him ill, he would tire of his pursuit.

Back in Belmont, Lovino had no friends. Every time he drew attention or struck up what seemed to be a promising friendship, it would quickly die out. He repelled people, he _disgusted _them. _'I thought you were going to be nicer once I got to know you,'_ they said with a scornful sniff and trod off to chat with Feliciano instead because he was a better, _nicer _version of Lovino.

No; Lovino was a meaner, worse version of his brother.

Dinner turning sour in his stomach, Lovino kicked sulkily at the wooden planks near his feet and pitched the last of his bread off the ship and into the water, not even watching as it spun through the star strewn sky and fell into the icy water.

He didn't have time to think about this. He wasn't going to be on this stupid ship forever; as soon as it was possible he was gathering his hapless little brother and dashing off to somewhere distant. Maybe they wouldn't even go back to Italy. They could go to Belgium perhaps, somewhere new. Somewhere deep down, Lovino had always longed to travel.

_Isn't that what you're going now? _A sneaky traitorous voice whispered at the very back of his mind.

No it wasn't, shut up. Lovino tightened his grip further on the rail and scrunched his brow together. He didn't even want to be here to begin with. If not back home in Belmont, he wanted to be in some new foreign land where nobody knew him and he could provide for Feliciano the best he knew how; maybe this time without picking pockets. They'd live a somewhat-peaceful-but-yeah-really-definitely-not-boring life.

And perhaps, they could be happy. That _Lovino _could be happy; because he couldn't remember the last time he had been.

Somewhere far off in the distance, the celebrations on the ship continued, all loud noise that filtered into the darkened night air and the cracking laughter of pirates that echoed deceivingly loud as it bounced off the wooden fittings of the ship.

Lovino vaguely wondered if he should go join them. If he _could _go join them.

Behind him there was the sharp rap of heels on decking and a scowl flitted across his face as his fingers flexed automatically in displeasure and a faint groan of annoyance blew out from between his teeth. "What is it now you French bastard?" He snapped, turning around sharply only to blink in surprise.

Antonio stood casually before him, face cast in the silver spill of moonlight and hair streaked white-brown in the evening gloom. His lengthy pony-tail blew slightly in the breeze and his over-embellished Captain's coat swung slightly as he took another step.

"What are you doing out here, Lovi?" He hummed pleasantly.

"No," Lovino grouched as he turned back to the ocean petulantly, "The question is what are _you _doing out here _bastardo_? Shouldn't you be at the feast?"

"Silly Lovi," Antonio chuckled as he leant against the edge of the ship beside Lovino. "I should be wherever you are."

"That's the worst line I've every head," Lovino muttered, quietly, for his ears only, but didn't object to the company. Considering the thoughts whizzing around his head, he figured he could use a little companionship, even if it came from the likes of Antonio.

Taking Lovino's silence as s sign of assent, Antonio hummed cheerfully under his breath and shuffled a little closer to Lovino, ignoring the sharp elbow he received to his ribs for his trouble.

The pair of them fell into amicable silence with only the gentle noise of the pirates wafting in the midnight air to accompany the soft lull o the waves down below.

Of all the nights Lovino had been on the ship, this one was by far the most peaceful. He'd finally managed to talk with his brother without dissolving into a babble of angry slurs and the faint slit on his neck was healing up nicely. Antonio's mood was good and the rest of the crew was bundled up below deck, affording Lovino the space and distance he'd been so denied since being unwillingly thrust into the nomadic lifestyle of pirates.

Cautiously, Lovino peeked at Antonio from the corner of his eye, peering through a curtain of auburn-brown hair. The dreaded pirate Captain was staring thoughtfully out to sea with his arms crossed and leaning on the railing of the ship, hair swishing and earrings jangling in the increasing breeze that was slowly becoming more of a gust.

"So," Lovino said uncertainly, uneasily breaking what _had _been a nice silence. Antonio's gaze snapped back like a whip to give Lovino his full attention, giving a faint smile that made Lovino's blood boil in irritation. He forced down his ire, grouchily tucked his hair behind his ear and continued: "This treasure… Is it really that big of a deal?"

"_Si_, Lovi. It really is that big of a deal." Antonio chuckled, angling his body slightly to the left so he could more properly face his especially irked companion. "It's the kind of treasure you only get a shot at once in a life time."

Lovino swept a tongue along his chapped lips absently and deepened his frown. Antonio's bright green eyes followed his every move. "But don't you pirates do shit like this all the time? I thought you bastards were always finding gold and crap like that."

Antonio gave a throaty laugh and pinched one of Lovino's wind-reddened cheeks between his fingers, ignoring the annoyed growl and the harsh swat at his wrist that followed, taking glee in the way he could feel it warming beneath his touch. "Ah, but _Lovi_; It's a little more complicated than that."

"Stop touching me!"

Giving another oblivious smile Antonio drew back his fingers and dodged Lovino's stomping foot with practiced ease. Lovino's fingers twitched to rub at his pinched cheek but he resisted the urge out of dignity and instead aimed his most vicious glare at Antonio had seemed to paying him no heed.

"What you don't understand Lovi, is that The Trove is the thing of legends. So many of us were raised on myths of it, even more of us were inspired to take to the sea after it."

"That's stupid," Lovino said bluntly, and, after a moment more of careful consideration, added: "You're stupid."

Antonio was already staring back out at the now pitch-black sky, smiling gently at the purple tinged waves that rocked back and forth. He sent Lovino an amused glance and the corners of his lips quirked but his gaze quickly flicked back out to watching the ocean roll. "Maybe," He admitted. "But I'd rather be stupid than bored."

Lovino bit the corner of his lip, paused, and then repeated, "Bored?"

"Ah, you know, don't you? Just getting up every morning and doing the same thing? Just doing the same thing every day? Doing what everybody else tells you to, doing it just to survive? Letting everyone push you around? No free will, no _adventure_? Not for me, no thank you." Antonio raised a teasing eyebrow and smirked. "Where's the fun in that?"

Blush flushed Lovino's cheeks and he scowled, quickly redirecting his eyes to the wooden deck, heart pounding loudly in his chest. Antonio had just described his own life to him. What was it he did every day? Get up, walk the streets, risk his fingers digging them into pockets he really shouldn't, lose a good portion of his days earning to the thugs that swarmed the streets that so readily twirled a knife near his throat if they caught a glimpse of gold tucked in his fist? Was that really what he wanted?

Lovino titled his head to the side and surveyed the ship around him; the curls of rope laying ready and waiting, the billowed red masts and the grease and blood that stained the wood stubbornly. He smelt the salt and oil and sweat that characterized the ship. He heard the laughs of pirates below deck, the hush of the water carrying them North-South-East-West – wherever they wanted.

Belmont had been hard but it had also been easy. Lovino knew exactly what was expected of him, he knew exactly what he had to do and if he risked life and limb to do it; so be it. That was the way it all was, the order of the universe. Back in Belmont, he would never amount to anything, he wasn't destined for greatness; he was merely That Brat Lovino Vargas – a street urchin thug.

However, here – on the ship with Antonio and Feli and even that bloody potato bastard – he _could _be anything. He didn't _have _to be That Brat Lovino Vargas – he could be whatever he wanted, he could do whatever he wanted. Nobody was going to push him down and watch him fall, nobody was going to scoff at him if he ever, even just for a moment, expressed the desire to do something for himself. He could think it, do it, _be _it.

And more than anything, more than Feliciano's irritating logic, more than Francis and Gilbert's subtle ribbing, more than Antonio's charming – stupid – smiles, it made him reconsider for the first time whether he wanted to turn away from that and return to Belmont, whether he really, _really _did want to set out on his own with nothing and nobody and try his luck in Belgium or Spain or the dozen other places that would be exactly the same as Italy as soon as he set his foot on their soil to stay.

Antonio saw the flash of indecision on his face – the briefest hint of longing – and smiled; the kind of fond, distant smile that even his closest of friends were rarely privy to. He saw the confliction in hazel eyes and if Lovino didn't see the strangeness in his own green ones; then maybe that was okay after all.

In a movement so swift that Lovino had to startle back to reality, Antonio took a step back away from the edge of the ship and stretched, letting out a loud and exaggerated yawn. Turning to leave, he paused only to lean forward and ruffle Lovino's hair – much to the Italian's displeasure.

"Well, you don't need to stress so much _mi amigo_. Just think about it, _si_?"

And then Antonio turned and left and a flourish of bright red, brown, gold and green and Lovino was left with the now common feeling of confusion, his own fingers resting against his head where Antonio's had been only moment before.


End file.
